


Green Light

by AdhdBarryAllen



Series: Green Light [1]
Category: Birds of Prey (Comic), DCU (Comics), Green Lantern - All Media Types, Green Lantern Corps (Comics)
Genre: Copious Amounts Of Guy Gardner: Warrior Refrences, Green Lantern Zinda Blake, Light Angst, Multi, Partners to Lovers, Rivals to Lovers, Team as Family, i lied about the light angst, its like enemies to lovers only actually good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2018-12-26 00:03:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12047112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdhdBarryAllen/pseuds/AdhdBarryAllen
Summary: “Zinda Blake of sector 2814… Welcome to The Green Lantern Corps.”By some bizzare twist of fate, Zinda Blake finds herself a newly-minted Green Lantern. Upon traveling to Mogo, she is reunited with her old friend Guy Gardner and his husband Kyle. Hijinks ensue.





	1. A Green Lantern is Born

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yea this is mostly an excuse for me to write about zinda and guy's forgotten friendship from the 90's.  
> about the guykyle tag!! while this fic IS about zinda, they play a huge part in it and are cute throughout.  
> ive also got a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/rosemaryyams/playlist/7wpLu8t4JOwKt6cr6YCjRv) for this fic. please enjoy!

_“Zinda Blake. You have the ability to overcome great fear.”_

She squints, head aching as she wakes slowly to a green light shining in her eyes. It’s not the sun, not unless it’s turned green overnight (but in this crazy world it’s certainly a possibility). She fumbles for the glass of water and aspirin that she was smart enough to leave for herself the night before and swallows down the pills. When her eyes adjust to the light, she can’t help but groan.

“I never asked for an alarm clock _or_ an ugly piece of bling,” she says.

“ _I am a power ring sent by the guardians of the universe.”_

“Yeah, I know what you are. You’ve got yourself quite a reputation ‘round here.”

Zinda lets the ring fall gently into her palm. She knows what it’s for. Everyone who knows the Justice League knows what it’s for. But why her? This ring was forged from a raw power that she can’t even _begin_ to comprehend, and it’s chosen _her_ to wield it. Is this a gift from the universe or some kind of cosmic joke?

She rolls out of bed, feet on the floor, and holds the ring up to the sun. It gleams like nothing she has ever seen before. Helena would probably tell her to go for it. Dinah might not be as approving; she _is_ generally the cautious one. And Barbara? Zinda has no idea what Barbara would say. But if she’s being honest, life has been missing its spark for a while now. The Birds have moved on. She still tries to keep in touch, but they each have their own busy lives to tend to. The last she heard, Dinah was in a band and Barbara was CEO of some fancy company. Who knows where Helena is.

Zinda knows no one can make this decision for her. She can either stay how she is, living the same routine day after day, absent of adventure, or she can choose this power and see where it takes her. And, well, Zinda has never been one to turn down a challenge.

She slides the ring down her middle finger. It fits perfectly.

“ _Zinda Blake of sector 2814… Welcome to The Green Lantern Corps.”_

For a moment, nothing happens. Zinda stares at the ring, wondering if there was some sort of power button she had neglected to notice. She taps the face of it lightly. “Hey uh… don’t suppose you could tell me what happens next?”

“ _We will now travel to Mogo. There you will be trained as a member of the Green Lantern Corps.”_

And suddenly, she’s glowing green. Her feet lift off the ground and she—lead by the ring, she assumes—floats to the window. Deft fingers flip open the lock, and without a moment’s notice, she’s _soaring_. Zinda’s used to flying, but not like _this_. She loves her planes, but it’s nothing like the wind that’s whipping against her face as she flies up, up, _up_ through the clouds. A laugh bubbles up from her chest. Yes, _this_ is the freedom she’s always craved. What she’s fought her whole _life_ for. Who knew a green ring from space would be the one to give it to her?

As she soars higher, the city becomes less like a dollhouse and more like a speck, until the entire planet is far behind. Zinda has never been in space before. Billions of stars dot the sky as she flies past them, her ring guiding her path. She passes entire _worlds_ in an instant. Is this what it’s always like for a Green Lantern? She could get used to this. Zinda has always been in love with the sky, but space was a whole other beauty.

With all the sights to see, Zinda barley notices the time pass. Her attention is too busy being drawn to all the stars she never could quite see from the city. When she arrives at a planet with the Lantern’s symbol across the middle, the ring stops it’s pull. “Where in the hell are we?”

“ _We have arrived at Mogo, Lantern Blake._ ”

Zinda scoffs. “You ain’t gotta call me that, ‘makes me sound like an old maid. Zinda works.”

Her descent onto Mogo is a breathtaking sight. It’s so full of _light!_ The mismatched architecture of the buildings somehow flows together, despite its vast differences. And everything is _green!_ Though, in retrospect, she should have seen that coming. Other lanterns fly from one place to the next, not yet taking notice of her. Zinda’s feet touch down on the ground of the courtyard and she lets out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“Holy _mackerel_.”

“Who tha’ hell are you?” A gruff voice shouts from her. Zinda turns to face its source and is met with the face of a being the likes of which she has never seen. He’s huge, maybe twice the size of her, and looks like he could snap her like a twig if she wasn’t paying attention. And he has _horns_ too—all in all, a startling combination.

“Who the hell are _you_!?” She retorts. “I was just tryin’ to get my beauty sleep when this glowing space ring comes and wakes me up, and now I’m on an alien planet in my goddamn _nightie!_ ” She holds up her middle finger, displaying her ring and flipping him off in the process.

“Listen up ya _poozer_ , ‘round here recruits like you show _respect_ to yer superiors.”

Zinda has no idea what a poozer is, but she knows what an insult sounds like in _any_ language. Arms crossed, she takes a step in a little too close. “No, _you_ listen up, you fuckin’ chrome-dome, I don’t have to respect _anyone_ who doesn’t respect me first, so you can take your superiority and— “

A glowing brick wall comes between them, pushing the two apart not a moment too late. Zinda can only stare in awe at the _detail_ put into something as simple as this. She can even see chips and scratches the bricks. Then, just as quickly as it was created, the wall is whisked away.

Standing there was a human lantern, the first one she’d seen since arriving. His dark hair was pushed back, but a few loose strands hung in his face which he covered by a large domino mask (if you could really call it that).

“Kilowog, stop terrorizing the newbie. She’s not even in _uniform_ yet.” He leans in towards Zinda to whisper. “ _Why aren’t you in uniform?_ ” Zinda only shrugs.

“And you, newbie. If I were you, I wouldn’t try fist fighting the guy who could be training you the first time you meet him.”

Zinda hums thoughtfully. The human lantern links his arm through hers, leading her away from Kilowog.

“It’s time for the tour, recruit,” he says.

Zinda gives a final salute to Kilowog before allowing herself to be steered away completely.

“I’m Kyle, by the way. Kyle Rayner.”

“Zinda Blake,” she responds. It feels strange to give out her name before her alias for one. She pauses, then asks the question that’s been on her mind for a while. “Hey, what’s a girl gotta do to get a drink ‘round here?” she asks.

Kyle laughs. “I know _just_ the place.”

Kyle takes her to a bar called Warriors, and the only bar on Mogo, much to Zinda’s shock. She snorts at the name. It’s the same as the superhero-themed bar she worked at so long ago. The outside is green, which has ceased to surprise her, and is shaped like a giant lantern which Kyle tells her is called a power battery. She pushes open the doors with gusto.

“We’re closed,” a man’s voice calls. The place is mostly dark inside, maybe they _are_ closed.

“No, you’re not,” Kyle says, rolling his eyes. “You can mix a drink for our new recruit, I _know_ you don’t have anything better to do right now.”

The man huffs, and Zinda swears he sounds familiar. It’s only when he steps into the light that she recognizes him. “ _Guy_? Hot diggity dog, is that you?!” Zinda exclaims, sweeping Guy up in a hug, his feet lifting inches off the ground. “I haven’t seen you since what, ’96?”

“Zinda fuckin’ Blake? No _way,_ ” Guy laughs, giving her a look up and down. “And in her _PJ’s_ no doubt!”

“Oh, shove it,” Zinda says, punching him in the arm. “I got woken up by a glowing space ring today that dragged me to another _planet_ , my day’s been hog-wild so pour me a damn drink.”

“ _God_ , I missed you,” Guy chuckles, reaching across the counter to grab them a bottle of whiskey and some glasses.

Kyle, who had been watching the exchange in complete confusion, clears his throat. “Wait, you two _know_ each other?”

“ _Oh_ yeah,” Guy says, patting the seat next to him. Kyle sits by his side, and Guy hands him a glass. “I met Zinda durin’ all that Zero Hour time bullshit, back when I was Warrior. Then she shows up months later at Warrior’s grand opening—the first one, Kyle— ‘an she’s got no idea how she got there!”

“I got fuckin’ _dumped_ in 1995,” Zinda laughs, throwing down her glass and refilling it immediately. “I was fightin’ with the Blackhawks in the war when I got sucked into that damn time rift, where I meet this fella, then I’m in a wacky-ass Manhattan bar and Guy Gardner is offering me a room.”

“Wait, you’re—you’re Lady Blackhawk? _The_ Lady Blackhawk?” Kyle says in disbelief.

“The one and only.” Zinda gives a joking curtsey. “Damn, you won’t _believe_ the shit Guy got up to then.”

Kyle knocks back his drink. “Tell me _all_ about it.”

And she does. She tells him about the Guy Gardner clone who attacked them once when Guy was off world, how she fought some nasty creature named Earthworm who nearly destroyed Warriors (again), and how the clone had the _audacity_ to call her _babe_ after saving her.

“I woulda’ punched him if I had been less injured,” she sighs. Guy pats her arm comfortingly. “Hey, remember when you an’ Fire banged under the mistletoe?”

Kyle does a spit take. “You did WHAT!?”

Guy flushes. “Yeah, she hates me now and is much happier with Tora. Damn, that was the _weirdest_ Christmas I’ve ever had. Spectre went all ‘Ghost of Christmas past’ on my ass an’ had my dad try to get me to forgive him.”

“ _No,_ ” Zinda gasped.

Guy nods. “Yep. I told that bastard’s ghost ta’ shove it.”

“Cheers to that,” Zinda says, clinking their glasses. A devious grin spreads across her face. “…Remember the Gal Gardner incident?”

“God, don’t remind me,” Guy groans.

“So, how’s it feel to be a girl’s gay awakening, Gardner?”

Seeing the look of complete and utter confusion on Kyle’s face, Guy explains. “So, I woke up like every other morning, but something’s different. I go outside for coffee and everyone’s staring at me—turns out Dementor turned me into a girl.”

Zinda wordlessly pours them all another drink.

“I go after Dementor, find out this girl I’d been with, Markita, was secretly an evil mastermind, and the _whole time_ Zinda can’t stop starin’ at my tits.”

“They were nice tits, Guy!” She laughs. “Hey, you gotta gal warmin’ your bed now, Guy?”

“Nope, just Kyle,” Guy replies. He’s blushing, a small grin on his face.

“Married for a few years now,” Kyle says quietly.

Zinda slams her glass down on the counter loudly. “Guy Gardner got _hitched?_ Damn, wish I’da been here to see you go all khaki-wacky for this fella!”

“Does she come with a translator?” Kyle whispers to Guy.

“If I knew I’d be using it,” Guy laughs.

Zinda twirls the bottle of whiskey absently. It’s empty by now. “Hey, what’s in that bottle on the shelf? It’s _pink._ ”

“Oh, yeah, we’ve got all kinds of alien alcohol ‘round here. But that shit will kill ya’.” Guy tells her.

“Sounds like a challenge,” she says, raising an eyebrow.

“No, you will _literally_ _die_.”

“Party pooper.” She snorts. “I should probably hit the sack anyway, ‘specially if that big alien fella is gonna be trainin’ me tomorrow.” She gets up, stumbling slightly. Kyle comes to her aid.

“You can stay with us if you want,” Kyle offers. “Just until you decide if you want an apartment here or not. We’ve only got a spare couch, but it’s something.”

Zinda smiles, patting his arm. “You’re a doll, Kyle. I can see why this fool married you.” She jerked a thumb in Guy’s direction.

They lead her to their home, Guy and Zinda still chatting about their past adventures. Kyle was surprised Guy hadn’t mentioned her before, but then again, he didn’t remember everything about his days as Warrior. Zinda was crass, energetic, and full of laughter. Just from today alone, he could tell she would make an interesting addition to The Corps. Plus, he woman could pick up Guy like he weighed _nothing_. Kyle couldn’t help but like her.

When they arrived, Zinda heads straight for their couch and flops face down. Guy fetches her a stack of blankets and pillows that she accepts graciously.

“If you need anythin’ just holler,” Guy tells her.

“Can do! Just try to remember that I’m here in the mornin’ so I don’t have to walk in on anyone naked.”

Kyle snorts, and Zinda gives a wink. Then, she curls up on the couch and is asleep in nearly an instant. It’s been one _hell_ of a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can pry lesbian zinda from my cold dead hands..............  
> since im guessing yall need a translator for zinda as much as kyle does-  
> chrome-dome: insult for a bald man (aND ALSO A TRANSFORMER BETTE IM _SORRY_ )  
> khaki-whacky: boy crazy  
> the adventures refrenced are all from guy gardner: warrior. zinda was in issues #24, 29, 36, 38-43 and the gal gardner one is the WORST. lots of casual 90s transphobia, its gross.  
> thank you for reading, please let me know what you think! :D


	2. Trial and Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zinda's training begins, but not without it's fair share of complications.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should probably warn you that i dont have a direction planned for this but i'm writing it anyway lmao. most of the stuff that happens comes from stupid conversations cas and i have late at night. im hOPING i'll have a plot worked out soon but even if i dont im still gonna keep having fun with this. i hope you all will too :)

Zinda dreams of the Blackhawks.

She’s flying high in the sky, at home in the bird she piloted during the war. She knows this plane like she knows her own mind, and she flies it not as a machine, but as an extension of herself. But something is wrong. Without warning, the lights on the dashboard are flashing and she’s plummeting down towards the sea.

Zinda spots a familiar island in the distance. She can land there. She can make it. A crash landing is better than dying. The plane skids to a stop on the coast of Blackhawk island, and Zinda stumbles from the wreckage. The plane burns bright, just as it did so many years ago when she crashed through the rift in time.

The hair on the back of her neck stands up. She’s not alone here. From behind her, she hears a voice—one she knows so very well.

“ _You left us,”_ Even Janos—Blackhawk himself—is there. His voice is hoarse, dead, and _wrong_ , his eyes sunken in.

“I didn’t have a _choice_ ,” Zinda pleads, but it never makes any difference.

One by one, her former teammates appear. They circle her, drawing closer and closer. Olaf tells her of how she failed him, Hans tells her she’s despicable. She didn’t _want_ to leave them, she pleads. She was pulled from her life, left in the future with no way home. But they don’t listen. They never do. Zinda has had this dream so many times now, but their words still sting.

“ _Zinda…_ ” They whisper, shaking her. She shuts her eyes, trying to will them away. She breathes hard, tears streaking down her face as the teammates she loved remind her of all the ways she’s let them down. It’s just a dream, she _knows_ it’s a dream, but—

“Zinda, wake up!”

Her eyes fly open. Kyle is shaking her gently, brows furrowed in concern.

“I’m up, I’m up,” she says groggily.

“Sounded like you were having a nightmare. Coffee?”

Zinda accepts the steaming cup being offered and sighs. “You’re never really done being a soldier, are you,” she says, voice barley above a whisper.

Kyle nods solemnly. She can see it in his eyes; Kyle knows what she’s talking about.

The Blackhawks are a common theme of her dreams nowadays. Even though she’s lived in this century for a while now, a part of her still misses them. A part of her always will. How do you move past the thought that all the friends and family of your own time have been dead for decades? Her teammates had disappeared after the war, leaving Zinda with no way of knowing who had made it home. The Blackhawks were legendary, but not enough to be more than a footnote in history.

“Listen, I talked to John already, and he gave me the okay to train you today. It’s probably best that you don’t train with Kilowog right away after the impression you gave him yesterday.”

Zinda laughs into her cup. “I’m mighty grateful for that.”

“Well, Guy has already left, but there’s some breakfast in the kitchen. When you’re ready, we’ll head out.”

Zinda wasn’t too keen on showing the entire Corps her nightgown again, but being that her recruitment hadn’t come with a uniform, she didn’t have much of a choice. Kyle leads her away from the citadel and towards a lush green landscape instead. They settle down in a grassy field that stretches as far as the eye can see, and Zinda takes a moment to soak up the fresh air.

“Okay, daddy-o, what’s the first step in becoming a badass space cop like yourself?” Zinda asks, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.

Kyle gives her an odd look before answering. “Well, building a construct, of course.”

“A what now?”

Kyle holds out his hand, willing his ring to produce a single rose in his palm. “Constructs are a manifestation of your will and are shaped with your imagination. Basically, the glowing green things we fight with.”

Zinda nods, completely enthralled. 

“From what I can tell, you’re the kind of person who prefers to _do_ , rather than watch. Channel your willpower and blast it.”

That part is easy. Zinda pours her energy, her determination into the ring. She lets it build, then fires. An impressive beam of green light decimates the grass in front of them and Zinda smirks triumphantly.

“Nice one,” Kyle says. “You’ve definitely got a lot of power, now try and _make_ something with it.”

Zinda closes her eyes and tries to focus. She’s never been one for meditation, but this is important so she better start trying. Not feeling anything, she opens one eye slightly. The ring isn’t even _glowing_. Suddenly, all her excitement drains out of her. This was going to be harder than she thought.

“ _Damn_.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kyle assures her. “Making a construct isn’t easy. Think of it this way—the ring isn’t the source of your power, it’s just an adapter. You’ve clearly got the willpower, it’s why you were chosen. Now you just have to _shape_ it. What are you feeling when you usually get in a fight? Use that.”

“Here goes…” Zinda thinks back on her first mission with the Birds of Prey. They had recruited her straight out of her dead-end life at Blackhawk Shipping and made her _their_ pilot instead. She remembers facing off against The Harvest, fighting alongside Dinah and Helena for the first time. Her ring glows bright as she recalls the rush of running head first into battle, but knowing someone had her back? It was a feeling she had been missing ever since the Blackhawks—

The green light fades as quickly as it had come.

“You had it, Zinda! What happened? What were you thinking about?”

“My first mission with the Birds,” Zinda tells him. “I hadn’t had a team to watch my back since—look, never mind, okay? That was a flop. Let’s go again.”

Kyle knows there’s more, but he doesn’t push.

They work for hours, Kyle trying to offer helpful hints and Zinda becoming more frustrated with every attempt. By the end of the day, she can conjure up a blast, but not much else. It’s obvious that it bothers her. Zinda is a skilled marksman and pilot. Those skills aren’t gathered without hours upon hours of practice, and a power ring is no different. No one had been there to help Kyle learn to wield _his_ ring, so he did his best to make sure no recruit ever had the same experience.

Zinda gives it one last try before Kyle calls it a night, and the two fly back to the apartment. Guy isn’t back yet, so Kyle starts making dinner. Zinda sits at the kitchen island, watching as Kyle cooks up vegetables in a pan.

“Say, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare set of _normal_ clothes ‘round here, would ya?” Zinda asks. “Don’t know if I’m getting one of those crisp uniforms any time soon and I’m gettin’ rather tired of walking ‘round in my nightie.”

“Sure, Guy should have a stash of extra Warrior’s shirts in the bottom drawer of the dresser, help yourself,” Kyle replies, gesturing with his spatula. “And you can borrow some of my sweat pants if you want.”

Zinda smiles and thanks him, running off to change. While Kyle cooks, he starts to think about their training session today. Zinda was holding back. _Something_ was holding Zinda back. Should he bring it up, or was it better to let her resolve her inner turmoil on her own? He’ll have to ask Guy. Zinda is his friend, maybe he has some clue as to what’s going through her head.

Zinda returns not long after Kyle finishes with the veggies and begins cooking the noodles, reoccupying her place at the counter. She’s swimming in Guy’s too-big Warrior shirt, her hair tied up in a messy ponytail. Even with how tired she is, she’s still smiling brightly. Kyle doesn’t mention any of his suspicions about her struggles with the ring, it’s not the time. She sits, chin in her hands, watching thoughtfully. “Kyle, I’ve gotta ask, how’d a great fella like you end up with Gardner? When I knew him, he was nowhere _near_ as sappy as he is for you.”

Kyle chuckles. It’s not the first time he’s been asked this. “I don’t know, it just kinda happened. Guy never wanted a partner, but when the Guardians assigned me, he changed his mind. We’ve been through a lot together, it took a while for us to notice that we’d become partners in more than one sense of the word. But I trust Guy with my life, I can’t help but love him.” A faint blush covers his cheeks.

Zinda’s smile is blinding. “Aww, it’s great to see that Guy’s less of a dick now. You’re good for each other.”

As if on cue, the door swings open, bringing Guy with it. “Honey, I’m home,” he calls, his tone light and humorous. Kyle snorts.

He makes his way to the kitchen, likely in search of food. “Zinda, is that my shirt?”

“Why would _I_ own a Warriors shirt?” Zinda snarks.

“Maybe you wanted a souvenir to remember me by,” Guy fires back.

She rolls her eyes. “By the way, you have my approval on Kyle.”

“Why would I need your approval? Zinda, I’ve already _married_ him,” Guy laughs, snaking an arm around Kyle’s waist and kissing him on the cheek.

“Well, you have it, so…” She shrugs, smirking.

“You two know I’m still here, right?” Kyle interjects.

“How could I forget,” Guy grins.

Kyle serves them each dinner (vegetable stir fry—he wasn’t sure what Zinda liked but it seemed like a safe bet) and sits down at the kitchen island with them.

“Just so you know,” he says to Zinda. “I’m not letting you sleep in tomorrow. Which means you two should drink less and keep your reminiscing within reasonable hours.” He shoots a look at Guy, who shrugs.

“So how _did_ trainin’ go?” Guy asks, shoveling his food in a way that makes Kyle glare.

“ _Peachy_. I couldn’t make a construct, and I still don’t get a damn uniform,” Zinda sighs.

“Aww, it’s only your first day. You’ll get there.”

The next few weeks of training progress relatively the same. Kyle would wake Zinda up (much too early for her liking), they would fly to their space away from the citadel, and Zinda would try her damnedest to summon a construct, but to no avail. She was getting tired of all this trying and nothing to show for it.

Guy tries to train her one day, but she has him in a headlock before he could _think_ to use his ring. He doesn’t offer again. Kyle tries different approaches, putting her in stressful situations, thinking that _maybe_ she’ll create her first construct. But after being a vigilante, Zinda is used to finding her way out of dangerous circumstances with only her wits, not superpowers. Kyle is nothing but patient, but Zinda finds herself growing more and more frustrated. And even after weeks of effort, she’s still without a uniform.

The only Lantern he knows of who made it to Oa without a uniform was Soranik. After the horrors Sinestro had brought to Korugar as a Green Lantern, the _last_ think Soranik wanted was to join the corps. The moment she had received her uniform was the moment she dedicated herself to the corps.

“Zinda, do you _want_ to be a Green Lantern?” Kyle asks her well into their third week of training. His tone is sincere with not a drop of accusation. They’ve taken a break for now, content to just lie in the grass and stare up at the sky.

She’s taken aback by this. _Does_ she want to be a Lantern? When the ring came to her, Zinda’s thoughts were on the opinions of others if she were to accept, not on her own feelings. She wanted adventure, of course, but she knows now that The Corps is so much more than that. They’re a military, but they’re also a _family_. The similarities to the Blackhawks make her heart hurt.

Is that what’s holding her back?

Zinda has been in this time for long enough to adjust. She can work her way around everyday technology, she can drive their fancy computerized cars, hell, she even knows how to pay her bills _online_. And yet, every time she turns on the radio, she still expects to hear good old Glenn Miller and his orchestra instead of whatever counted for popular music these days. She’s here in the future, but with one foot in the past. How does a person move on from that?

“Kyle, I… I don’t know. Everything you have here, it all seems so _swell_ , but I’ve done my tour with the military before. Granted, it was the air force, not the space force, but still.”

“If you want to leave, no one will stop you.”

“That’s just it, I don’t think I _want_ to leave. I want to be a part of this… fantastic life you’re livin’. But I can’t help feel like I’m betraying the Blackhawks for wanting this so _badly_.”

Kyle’s eyes widen. His gaze flickers down from her eyes and to her chest in shock.

“You’re a married man, you don’t get to stare at my—” It’s when Zinda looks down _herself_ that she realizes what all the fuss is about.

Gone is the oversized pair of jeans and baggy shirt she’s been borrowing. Now, she wears a green uniform much like the outfit she’s accustomed to. Black pants hug her legs, and a pair of green boots come up to her knees. Her jacket is nearly identical to the one she wore as a Blackhawk, only now a vibrant emerald color. In the center of her jacket is a white circle, instead of the Blackhawk’s emblem she wears with honor. Black gloves come up to her elbow. Her hands come up to her head to feel for her hat, and sure enough, it’s there too.

“Holy _moly_.”

“Holy _shit_. Zinda, you did it!” Kyle exclaims, pulling her into a hug.

“I… guess I did!” Zinda hadn’t realized just how badly she wanted this until she had said it aloud. She was a _Green Lantern_ now, uniform and all. Right now, she felt like she could do anything.

“ _Willpower spiking.”_

Kyle opened his mouth to speak, but Zinda a step ahead of him. She closed her eyes, willing her construct into existence. Pushing her will into the ring. Forming it to her thoughts. The shape filled her hand just as she imagined. She could feel them before she opened her eyes, warm and buzzing with energy. She grinned at the pair of glowing handguns that rested in her palms. Zinda raised one, firing it at a nearby tree. A _perfect_ shot. They even _felt_ like her guns at home!

“I can’t _wait_ to tell Guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus i forgot how sad i made some of this??  
> this is what [zinda's gl outfit](https://averyho.tumblr.com/post/164253472162/lesbian-galaxy-green-lantern-zinda-blake-icons-for) looks like!!!! thank you wombat for the edit i love it so much.  
> oh! and cas also drew the scene of [guy and zinda reuniting ](https://cassiferlynnart.tumblr.com/post/165201272933/for-my-first-place-winner-lesbianladyblackhawk) from the last chapter!


	3. Graduation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things fall into routine. Life goes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an outtake from the last chapter:
> 
>  
> 
> “Oh man, you shoulda’ seen it, Guy! The ring was all   
>  _  
>  ‘willpower spiking’  
>  _  
>  and I’m here like okay, that’s new, let’s do this, so I   
>  _  
>  do   
>  _  
>  it. I make my guns and shoot the closest tree and… fuckin’ bullseye man.” Zinda has had a pint or two by now, but she’s   
>  _  
>  still  
>  _  
>  raving about today’s events.
> 
>  
> 
> “You shot Mogo…” Kyle says, nearly inaudible.
> 
>  
> 
> “Oh   
>  _  
>  shit  
>  _  
>  , you’re right,” Guy says.
> 
>  
> 
> “Who the hell is Mogo? A tree?”
> 
>  
> 
> “  
>  No, Zinda, Mogo is the entire   
>  _  
>  planet  
>  _  
>  . He  
>  ’  
>  s a lantern, too.  
>  ”
> 
>  
> 
>   
>  “  
>  The   
>  _  
>  planet?  
>  _  
>  Damn.  
>  ”  
>  Zinda shakes her head in shame. She apologizes to Mogo, but is given no response.  
> 

 After succeeding in her training with Kyle, Zinda finally apologized to Kilowog. He was frightening even in accepting her apology. They train together nearly every day now, Kilowog pushing her to her breaking point and then a little further. It’s hard work, but Zinda can’t say she doesn’t enjoy it. It reminds her of her training with Helena and Dinah, only with more screaming.

On her off days, she continues to work with Kyle. He drives her to be creative with her constructs (even though she’d just stick with her guns if she could), putting her in the strangest scenarios he can come up with. Anything from video game bosses to robotic kittens is fair game when it comes to Kyle. When that’s done with, she spars with Guy. It’s always challenge; Zinda has years of training with the military _and_ the Black Canary, but Guy doesn’t fight fair. With all the tricks he’s picked up over the years, he always finds a way to keep her on her toes. Their sessions usually ends with them being patched up in the infirmary.

She’s just finished her training with Kilowog for the day. and the idea of _any_ food sounds appealing, no matter how alien it might be. So, instead of heading back to the apartment to raid the fridge as she usually does, Zinda makes her way to the mess hall. She’s decided to spend more time socializing. When she first arrived at the Corps, Zinda spent most of her time with Guy. It was past time to meet her fellow Lanterns

Zinda surveys the room, tray in hand. It feels more like the clique-filled cafeteria of a high school movie than she would like. At one table, a group of incredibly muscular lanterns sit, some eating their food and others testing their strength against each other. Another is filled with lanterns who all appear to be robots, which is puzzling. Do robots have will? They must, if they’re Green Lanterns. Zinda makes a mental note to ask Kyle.

It’s loud, buzzing with activity as everyone take their breaks together. She spots Arisa with a group of lanterns. Zinda hasn’t seen her since the two of them worked at Warriors. She gives a small wave, but Arisa doesn’t seem to notice. Oh well. They never really were friends, only acquaintances really. In the corner, she spots their medical officer chatting fondly with another Lantern. She’s met Soranik before. She’s the one who always has to patch them up when things get… out of hand.  Zinda hopes Soranik has forgotten about the stiletto heel she had to remove from Guy’s arm.

Soranik glares slightly when Zinda sits down. So, she hasn’t forgotten. “Heya Soranik… catch any space criminals lately?” Zinda says, trying to be friendly and only succeeding in being awkward.

The yellow lantern narrows her eyes. “Lantern Blake. Did you get hurt doing something stupid with Gardner again?”

Zinda holds up her hands in protest. “No, no, nothing like that. I just figured I oughta’ spend more time socializing with my fellow lanterns, is all.”

Soranik let out a humph _._ “Ah. Well, there’s no harm in that.” She gestures to the lantern beside her. “This is Princess Iolande. We were partners once upon a time, and now we are again.”

“A princess? _Wowzah_ , you sure do look like one.”

Iolande raised an eyebrow, saying nothing. She returns to her food, clearly not impressed by Zinda’s light attempt at flirting. But Zinda means every word of it; Iolande is _beautiful_ . Her long, dark hair is held back by a headband and an emerald cape wraps around her shoulders. Around her eyes are blue markings, accents on her pink skin. Everything about her cries _royalty._ But from the way her and Soranik look at each other, Zinda knows she doesn’t have a chance. And honestly? She’s fine with that.

She can’t hold a candle to what these two must have been through together. They’re _partners_ , in more than one sense of the word. Zinda admires that bond, wonders if she’ll ever have that with someone. She sees it every day with Guy and Kyle; she sees it all around The Corps.

Zinda hasn’t had a partner since the Birds of Prey disbanded. Putting that amount of trust in someone has never come easy to her, and to know that soon she’ll be assigned someone to trust with her life makes her nervous on so many levels.

She’s so deep in her thoughts that the alert of her ring makes her flinch. A hologram projects from it, showing her the face of a lantern she hasn’t quite met yet.

“ _Lantern Blake, this is Corps Leader John Stewart. Report to the Corps Hall immediately.”_

“But I don’t—” The ring cuts off before she can protest. She doesn’t know where the main hall _is_. She looks up at Soranik, the confusion on her face clear as day.

“Your ring will lead you, don’t worry about it,” Soranik tells her with the dismissive wave of a hand.

Zinda nods and lets the ring take her. It knows what she wants before she says it, generating an arrow that points out of the mess hall. As she follows it, it changes, much like the strange map application Barbara had installed on her phone.

When she arrives, someone’s waiting for her at the front desk. From what Guy has told her, Zinda can assume this is the Corps’ receptionist, Salaak. Guy called him the Guardians’ bitch, but she’ll chose to ignore that for now.

When he spots her he sighs. “Another _human_? Aren’t there enough of you already?” Zinda opens her mouth to speak, but he quickly cuts her off. “They’re right through those doors. Don’t keep them waiting.” He points with one of his may arms and goes right back to his work.

What an _asshole._

The massive doorway opens as she approaches it, leading her into the Corps Hall. The first glance is enough to take her breath away. It’s _magnificent_. Stained glass windows with images of the two corps, both yellow and green, and high columns and archways. The atmosphere is akin to that of a place of worship.

In the center of the room, a small group waits for her. Guy, Kyle, Kilowog, and Corps Leader John Stewart stand expectantly. He looks exactly like he did in the hologram: Perfect posture, hair cropped short and neat. He’s likely military, she knows the type. Next to John stands a masked lantern with tousled brown hair and a smirk that’s just begging for Zinda to punch it off. That _has_ to be Hal Jordan.

She’s heard an abundance of things about him from Dinah over the years, not all of it good. One, that he’s a good kisser (information she did _not_ ask for), and two, that he’s an idiot. Zinda has no idea how Dinah ever put up with dating both him _and_ Oliver. And on top of that, Guy can’t stand him.

“What is all this?” she asks.

“It’s your graduation day, Zee!” Guy answers. Pride is all over his face.

“You ain’t a white circle anymore,” Kilowog adds.

She glances down at the blank circle on her chest. The mark of a rookie. She’s heard about the graduation ceremony, but she’s been so busy training lately that the idea of _her_ graduation had completely slipped her mind.

“They’re right,” John says. “Zinda Blake, you have hereby graduated basic training of the Green Lantern Corps. White circle no more. You have earned your insignia, Green Lantern of Sector 2814!”

Zinda can _feel_ the symbol burning itself into her chest—it’s _exhilarating_. Not long ago she couldn’t make a construct, much less the uniform she wears now. In that moment, she knows she’s earned this.

“ _Light ‘em up!_ ”

+++

They reconvene at Warriors after the ceremony. Guy has offered them free drinks all night as Zinda’s “graduation present” and she plans to full advantage of it.

Guy occupies his usual place behind the bar, making drinks and chatting with Kyle who sits across from him. While Kilowog and the other lantern sit in a booth talking, too far away to hear what they’re saying.

John sits alone at one of the tables. This is a party—her party, to be exact—no one is going to be alone on her watch. She takes a seat next to John, handing him a pint. “So, you’re a military man, yeah?”

He nods. “Marines. You?”

“Airforce. Kind of. I sort of… invited myself,” she says with a laugh. “The Blackhawks weren’t exactly your _traditional_ sort of crew.”

“Does that mean you’re more or less pretentious than the Airforce snobs now?” John asks, lips turning up in a smile.

Zinda snorts. “Less, I hope.”

Someone slides into the seat next to them. Of course, It’s Hal Jordan. “You’re a _real_ Blackhawk!?” He says, much too eagerly.

Zinda gives a curt nod. “Since ‘39.”

“Oh my _god_ , you’re… you’re _Zinda Blake_ . Lady _Blackhawk._ ”

Was he not listening during the ceremony? Usually Zinda doesn’t mind the fanatic routine. It’s nice to be remembered by someone for once. But this guy… there’s just something about him that she instinctively doesn’t like.

He leans in, much too close for her liking. “You wanna _fly_ with me sometime, sugar? I’m the best around.”

John sighs, face in his hands. He’s clearly all too used to this behavior.

Zinda raises her eyebrows. “ _Really_ ? That’s it? I’ve been flyin’ since before your _parents_ were born, so find someone else to hit on, _sugar._ ”

“Hal, she’s a lesbian,” Kyle calls from across the room. Behind the bar, Guy busts up laughing. Zinda only smirks as Hal slinks back to his booth in defeat.

Now that Hal is gone, Zinda turns back to face John. “Say, I’ve been meaning to ask—am I gonna have ta’ deal with a partner soon?”

“All GL’s are assigned a partner once they graduate from training,” John tells her. “But you’re the only new recruit we’ve had in a while.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, there’s no rookies free to be your partner.”

She breathes a sigh of relief.

“...So, I’m partnering you with Hal for the time being.”

Zinda is silent for a moment, then lets loose a stream of curses under her breath. This was _exactly_ why she didn’t want a partner. Why should she trust Hal with her life? She can’t even trust him not to hit on her first chance he gets. And all the stories she’s heard from Dinah and Guy don’t leave her with the highest opinion of him either. She vaguely recalls him telling her once while they were drunk the story of how he slept with Guy’s long-term girlfriend. He nearly married her while Guy was trapped in the Phantom Zone. She knows Guy has struggled with trusting people after that. Zinda has no respect for men who think with their dicks.

“With all due respect, sir, isn’t there anyone else besides that… that _grandstand_? I could shadow Guy, or Kyle, or—”

“Zinda, this is temporary. Hal’s a good lantern, he’ll show you the ropes. As soon as there’s someone else available, you’ll be their partner.”

Zinda groans, slumping back in her chair. No doubt Hal is going to love this. She wishes she could tell John to take a hike, that she won’t work with Hal, but John is her superior officer. She has to respect his orders, no matter how much she dislikes them.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” she says instead. Zinda finishes her beer in one long swig, aiming to fix that problem. “Guy, pour everyone a round of your hardest stuff. This ain’t even _close_ to a party yet.”

Guy is more than happy to oblige. He pours out a series of shots, lining them up on the counter for the group to collect. They each knock back a drink, and Guy immediately refills the shot glasses.

“We need _Jazz_ ,” Zinda says, feeling the liquor finally start to kick in. “And _arm wrestling_.”

“I can make _one_ of those things happen,” Guy replies, holding his arm out to challenge her. “Loser takes a shot.”

She grasps it firmly, trying to catch him by surprise, but he’s ready for her. The two struggle and for a moment, it seems like Zinda might win. But then Guy smirks, slamming her arm into the table. Asshole. She tosses her hair and knocks back her shot in defeat—it’s not exactly the worst punishment.

“Who’s gonna go up against the _champ_?” Guy declares.

Hal takes the challenger’s seat across from Guy. “Prepare to get your ass beat, _Gardner_.”

“Don’t be so smug, _Jordan_.”

Kyle gives Guy a kiss for good luck; Guy has Hal beat within seconds.

“That’s right noodle arms, take your shot,” he laughs.

The drunken arm wrestling continues far longer than anyone thought it would, only ending when Kilowog becomes the undefeated champion. Even Zinda at her most determined couldn’t beat him. She even tries using constructs to help her, and the rest of them are so eager to see Kilowog beaten that nobody reprimands on her for cheating.

Spirits are high and Guy’s supply of booze is low by the time they finally stumble home. Zinda hasn’t had this much fun with a group in a while. For the first time since the ring came to her, she feels like a part of their family. And _god_ , does it feel good to belong.

When Zinda falls asleep that night, she knows it. She’s a _Green Lantern._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zinda dictionary:  
> grandstand - someone who's a show off (Hal Jordan)  
> this chapter reaaaally did not want to be written. I've never made it past chapter 3 though so im proud!! i made it!!!  
> special thanks to my beta, Wombat (who i should have been thanking two chapters ago ack). every time i write a line that slightly dissess Hal she takes it and makes it 100% more brutal, its HILARIOUS.  
> (for the record, i don't hate Hal, hes just a binch and a hoe and one time he broke into my house and rearranged my furniture LMAO)


	4. A Challenging Partnership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being partners with Hal goes about as disastrously as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [i'm realizing i haven't added my timeline for zinda and thats a crime tbh.](https://drive.google.com/open?id=1Lw39J-MsGDqoonLIbBKd821QDMF42XgTBaaADxYjf6A) i overthink her life a lot.... which means the timeline gets updated pretty regularly. other things i update regularly include my [Green Light playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/rosemaryyams/playlist/7wpLu8t4JOwKt6cr6YCjRv), which i guess i havent shared yet either?? damn im a fool. check 'em out!!  
>  thanks again to Womabt for being the bestest beta... and dragging Hal in her edits yet again LMAO
> 
> Oh and a quick warning for internalized homophobia, as Zinda is a lesbian who grew up in a time that gay wasn’t really okay. It’s breif though.

The quickest thing Zinda learns on the job is this: Hal Jordan is a shit partner.

She’s been working with him for only two weeks now, and every moment has made her want to quit. Hal doesn’t listen. He doesn’t consult her in decision-making, he rushes head first into battle, and worst of all, he doesn’t save _any_ of the action for her. By the time she catches up to him, he always has the conflict taken care of and is looking smugger than ever. It’s _infuriating._

At the moment, they orbit the skies of the planet Susurrus in Sector 872. The world is on fire. Even from up above, Zinda can see thick clouds of smoke billowing up from its volcanic surface. The cities of Susurrus are quickly deteriorating, and the two of them have been tasked with assisting in the evacuation.

Sure enough, as soon as they reach the first city, Jordan gives her a salute, tells her he can handle this, and flies off to rescue whatever alien babe is the closest. But while he’s rescuing one person, Zinda is left in charge of rescuing _thousands._

She ushers them into construct aircrafts as fast as she can, sending them off to the nearest habitable planet in the sector. Their government is already expecting the Susurrians. The number of citizens seems infinite. For every hundred that she sends off planet, another hundred is still struggling to get off the streets. Zinda is still new to this job—she can’t do crowd control _and_ manage the evacuation. She needs a partner for this, but Jordan is nowhere to be seen.

“That self-serving son of a _bitch_ ,”

Maybe he’s saving a town nearby, she tells herself. Maybe this is just a test so she can prove herself capable as a Green Lantern. But if this is a test, she wishes he would end it now and _help_ her. Fear and doubt creep their way into her thoughts; Zinda pushes them down quickly. She conquered doubt when she made her first construct and she _cannot_ afford to fail now.

“Is that everyone?” she asks a Sussurian as they board the construct ship. They shake their head, pointing at large building to the east. Flames burst from the windows of what looks like an apartment complex. Zinda jets towards it just as the building begins to crumble. Ring extended, she ties to construct something, _anything_ , that will save the people she’s on the verge of failing. But between hours spent sending out ships of survivors and the constructs she’s still maintaining, Zinda is spread thin.

“ _Power levels low,_ ” her ring chimes.

“No, _no_ , not now!”

She’s trying desperately to conjure something, _anything_ that will halt the collapse of the building, but Zinda is no architect like John—she can’t pinpoint where the weak spots are and reinforce them. She’s not Kyle either, she can’t pull a wild solution out of her ass and make it work. But Zinda will burn herself out trying to save these people; It’s just how she’s wired. Ever since the night she ran off to join the army, she swore to herself that she would always be a protector. Failure is not an option; the very idea of it terrifies her and right now it’s staring her right in the face.

The building is tipping dangerously to the left and Zinda’s heart is racing with _fear_. Fear, the very thing Green Lanterns are trained to overcome, is tearing through her like a virus. Her constructs falter. The fire around her roars. She’s _screaming_. As her ring charge drains, so does her hope. Zinda’s uniform dissolves and she’s falling, falling, falling down. Defeated.

But the impact doesn’t come like she expects. There’s no impact, no hot and brutal ground like she was braced for. She sits up, looking around wildly. Zinda sits on the glowing construct of a king-size bed, suspended in the air with a perfect view of _Jordan_ saving the day. He’s nowhere near on time, but not a second late.

He flies expertly through the burning building, collecting every trapped civilian and all Zinda can do is watch. Her nails dig into her palm as he sends them off planet, effortlessly completing the evacuation that Zinda has exhausted herself over.

Jordan lowers the construct down to the ground and flies back over to her, giving a sloppy salute. “Everything is under control, partner.”

“Partner? _Partner?!_ You’ve got some goddamn _nerve._ ” She’s _seething_ . “You _left_ me for some skirt just so you wouldn’t have ta’ do your _job_!”

“I was just—”

“I don’t wanna hear _shit_ from you right now, Jordan. I knew you were some hot-shot glory whore and I coulda’ cared less if you take credit for savin’ the day, but you _left_ me today. You left me ta’ do a job a rookie can’t handle because someone pretty smiled at you.”

Jordan holds up his hands, ready to protest, but she’s not done yet. “You, Hal Jordan, are the _worst_ partner. I shoulda’ known I couldn’t trust a guy who _hits_ on me first chance he gets. I don’t _care_ how much of a big shot you are. You’re an _asshole_ an’ this is the last time I will _ever_ do a mission with you.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but decides against it. For that, Zinda is grateful. Who knows what other scathing insults she would have let fly if he had continued to pursue the argument.

“Let’s just get back to Mogo,” she sighs, rubbing her temples.

Jordan picks her up in a carriage, trailing her behind him as they fly home. She knows he’s trying in some way to make up for his misstep, but as she sits there in a tank top and sweats, she can’t help but feel patronized.

The two don’t speak a word the entire trip home, and as soon as they arrive on Mogo, Zinda charges her ring and heads straight for John’s office. Today will be Hal Jordan’s last day as her partner and _her_ last day having to put up with his showboating. He doesn’t bother trying to stop her.

Zinda storms past Salaak’s desk and knocks on the door to John’s office. It opens for her as a construct of a hand beckons her inside.

Zinda salutes. “Corps Leader Stewart, Sir, I’ve just returned from mission.”

John sighs. “You don’t need to do that every time, though the respect is nice. Please, sit down.”

She sits. “I’m not sure how to say this frankly but… If I have ta’ spend another day as Lantern Jordan’s partner—”

He laughs. Zinda was expecting him to sigh again, get angry, maybe, but not _laugh_. “I’m surprised this didn’t happen sooner. Go ahead and tell me what happened.”

“Well, I… we were on Susurrus to evacuate, an’ right away Jordan dashes off after some dame catches his eyes.” Her fists clench in her lap as she continues. “He leaves me ta’ handle things, but there’s so many _people_ and my ring was runnin’ low and I— _God_ , I wanna wring his skinny neck. He only shows up _after_ my ring is dead an’ saves the day. Those people could have _died_!”

She tries to continue, but the words are caught in her throat.

“You did your job, Lantern Blake.” John speaks calmly, trying to soothe her visible frustration. “Hal is… difficult to work with. We did well as partners, but I’ve lost track of the number of times he’s run off half-cocked and put others in danger. Abandoning his partner like that...” He shakes his head. “I’m gonna have some _words_ with him.”

“So, I’m off the hook then?”

“I wish it was that easy,” John frowns. “Usually, recruits arrive in pairs, but for some reason, you didn’t. That means a Corps member died unexpectedly, sending out their ring for replacement. You’ll have a partner eventually, Lantern Blake, but until Mogo sends out a new ring or someone leaves the Corps, you’re stuck being solo.”

“I’m _fine_ with that!” Zinda protests.

“But I’m _not_ ,” John replies. “The last thing I want is to lose a recruit before they even get a partner. So, I’m assigning you to traffic duty. It’s an easy job. All you have to do is direct the different ships as they pass though, you don’t even need a partner for it. ”

“ _Traffic_ duty?! I—” John gives her a look that reads ‘ _don't question my damn orders_ ’, effectively cutting her off.

“Yes, sir.” Zinda will take traffic duty over another day with Hal Jordan, even if it sounds as far from the action as she can be.

“And, since I know how much traffic duty sucks, I’m giving you shore leave in a few weeks,” He adds.

A smile spreads across her face. “Yes, _sir_!”

With a final salute (that John, of course, hadn’t asked for), she rushes out the door to tell Guy and Kyle the news.

+++

“So, Johnny gave ya’ _traffic duty?_ ” Guy says. “Only _extra_ green rookies get put on traffic duty.”

“Yeah, but my ma’ didn’t raise no quitter,” Zinda replies. “She said, ‘Zinda Geraldine Blake’—”

Guy cuts her off with a snort. “Your middle name is _Geraldine_?”

Zinda frowns. “Yeah, what’s it to ya’?”

“I just… _Geraldine._ ” He’s still laughing and shows no signs of stopping, but one glance at Zinda’s particularly stern face and he changes the subject. “So, how ‘bout that shore leave? Any plans on takin’ your Guy along?”

“Does shore leave even _work_ like that?”

Guy shrugs. “I’m honor guard, it oughta. S’not like John has me on assignment right now anyways.”

+++

Traffic duty has been miserable, as predicted. During her time, space traffic rarely ever needed directing, so it’s not exactly fitting of the word ‘traffic.’ It’s safe to say that Zinda has been counting down the days to her vacation. And her perseverance has paid off, this being the last shift she has before her and Guy (as well as Kyle, who they’ve roped into coming with them) leave for Earth.

She hasn't planned for how her time on Earth will be spent. She’s likely been evicted by now after not paying rent for the past six months. The days on Mogo are longer, as Zinda has recently learned. For her, it feels like she has been gone only a few months, but on Earth, she’s been gone half a year. She may as well as presumed dead thanks to the lack of cell service in deep space. Oh well. She’ll give Babs a call as soon as they’re in range and have the whole thing sorted out. The Birds would topple nations to find her if she disappeared. They must be worried _sick_. She’s been so caught up in herself and this new life as a Lantern, she hasn’t had the time to look back.

Zinda hasn’t exactly _seen_ Barbara lately. Or any of the Birds, for that matter. Before leaving for the Corps she had talked to them occasionally, but they were busy with their lives and Zinda hadn’t wanted to be a bother. Now, after months of missing them, she wished she had.

Her relationship with Babs, Dinah, and Helena wasn’t what most people thought. They were teammates, close knit and reliable, but they were far more than that. Zinda had fallen hard and fast for Barbara’s unrivaled smarts, Dinah’s fierce heart, and Helena’s razor-sharp wit. As teammates, the four depended on communication, so Zinda was upfront with her feelings. It was certainly a strange way to come out to them, but they hadn’t turned her away as she feared. They hadn’t rejected her for loving women, for loving _them_. Instead, Dinah pulled her close and kissed her, confessing that they loved her too.

Battling her close-minded upbringing is tough. When Zinda would come home with skinned knees and bloodied knuckles, her mother would scold her, but it wasn’t for getting in fights. Her mother scolded her for acting like the boys, for learning to throw a punch instead of learning needlepoint. Zinda loved her mother, but they rarely understood each other. She knows now that her mother only wanted the best life for her, but she didn't get that they had different definitions of what was best for Zinda. She could never comprehend why Zinda didn’t aspire towards marriage.

When Zinda left home for the army at eighteen, she didn’t wake her mother to say goodbye. They didn’t speak to each other after that, and by the time Zinda was ready to make things right, she was fifty years in the future and fifty years too late.

What would her mother think if she could see Zinda now? Unmarried, not the least bit ladylike, but _happy_. What would her mother say if Zinda told her she was a lesbian? Maybe she’d blame Zinda’s father for not being around, for not disciplining Zinda enough. She shudders at the thought.

On her good days, she imagines that her mother _would_ be proud of her for all the lives she’s changed and all the good she’s done. But on the bad days… she feels more like a disappointment than ever. Guy helps her through the bad days. She likes to think that, given enough time, her mother would understand that her loving girls isn’t and has never been a bad thing.

Zinda has come a long way to be proud of who she is. Guy and the Birds have certainly helped with that. Guy was there for her when she came to the future with nothing but the clothes on her back. He gave her a place to stay and a job she was good at, but above all, he was her _friend._ When Zinda first realized she might be gay, she panicked—it was against every normal she had been raised on—but Guy was at her side to help her through it. She’s not sure what she would have done if he hadn’t been there for her.

After four years with Guy, Zinda decided to move back to Gotham, where she grew up. She worked a miserable job at Blackhawk Shipping where they treated her like nothing but a publicity piece, but Helena, Dinah, and Babs found her and took her in. They gave her a team and a family, something she hadn’t realized she had been longing for. They gave her _love._  She was there to do the same for Charlie too.

Charlie was the closest thing Zinda would ever have to a daughter. After being regularly pressured to someday have kids by her mother, the mere _idea_ of children terrified her. When Charlie bounded her way into their lives, Zinda had no clue how to handle her. She couldn’t handle a _baby_ , let alone a fourteen-year-old. But she came to love Charlie, just as they all did. Dinah, Babs, and Helena would often joke that out of Charlie’s four moms, Zinda was the wild mom. Hearing that was a comfort; it meant she was doing _something_ right, at least. After the four of them broke up, Charlie had stayed with Helena. She texted Zinda from college regularly. What did she think when Zinda had stopped answering without reason? She hopes that when they get to Earth she can make this right. She never wanted to make Charlie worry, but by becoming a Green Lantern, she fears she’s done just that.

+++

There’s a knock on the wall behind her. She’s still living out of Guy and Kyle’s living room, so it’s the closest thing to knocking on her door.

“You about ready?” Kyle asks, leaning against the wall.

He looks closer at her then pauses, furrowing his brows. “Everything okay? You’re… _crying_.”

Zinda nods hurriedly, wiping her eyes and shoving the last of her things into her bag. She hadn’t realized she was crying. The last think she wants is to talk about why, so Zinda quickly shifts the topic. “Guy still takin’ forever?”

Kyle laughs. “ _Yep_. You’d think he was packing for the year, not for the weekend.”

“ _Guy!_ ” Zinda calls. “Five minutes an’ this train is leavin’ the station!”

Guy bursts out of the bedroom hauling three suitcases and a backpack and grumbling about how _‘It’s Kyles fault for forgettin’ damn everything’_ and ‘ _You want me ta’ go to Gotham without doomsday gear? No fuckin’ thanks.’_

“C’mon, drama queen, let’s get moving,” Kyle says, exasperated, as he takes a few of Guy’s bags off his hands. Guy sticks out his tongue at his husband in a display of complete and utter maturity.

With that, they rope their luggage together with constructs and say farewell to Mogo. They travel by transluminal pathways this time—it’s faster, and Kyle had made plans for them to meet up with Simon and Jess in Gotham that evening.

Zinda has never met the two Earth lanterns, but she’s certainly heard all about them. When she was still struggling with her ring, Kyle told her about Jessica Cruz, a fellow lantern who had dealt with similar problems as she had. Hearing that she wasn’t the only one to struggle with constructs was comforting, to say the least. Plus, he told her that she once punched Guy in the face, so Zinda was looking forward to meeting her. Simon Baz, she knows less about. Kyle had trained him in a similar way to how he trained Zinda—with strange obstacle courses and impossible situations—but that was the extent of her knowledge. She’s sure they’re one hell of a pair.

Will Zinda _ever_ have a partner like that? She hasn’t been a lantern for long, but it’s been long enough for her to know her situation isn’t exactly standard. Recruits come in even numbers, they don’t show up without warning in their nightgowns. Even though she likes working solo, there’s something about seeing Lanterns battle alongside each other seamlessly that makes her… lonely. She hopes John was right, that the right partner will arrive soon. Until then, it seems she’s stuck with traffic duty.

The remainder of their trip to Earth takes less time than expected. Her first trip to the Corps dragged on for what felt like eternity, so she half expected the return trip to be the same. Thank god for transluminal pathways. Zinda might not understand a thing about them, but they make the trip twice as fast and she’s glad for it.

When they arrive in Gotham, it’s five in the morning and they’re all bone-tried. Unfortunately, Kyle hadn’t done the best job at calculating time differences, as well as how exhausting space travel can be. The trip that he thought would take 10 hours and have them in Gotham by nine instead lasted 14 hours.

Zinda groans. “Ya’ll, I’m sorry, but can we skip the hangout tonight?”

The last thing any of them want to do is stay up and socialize, so Kyle messages Jess and Simon with his ring and reschedules things for tomorrow.

“Anyone think to book a hotel?” Guy asks. Kyle shakes his head, and Guy groans. “Looks like we’re _campin’_ tonight, folks.”

“Nah, hold on.” Zinda digs through their things, searching until she finds Guy’s cheap flip phone. She punches in a number she knows by heart and waits through the dial tone.

After six rings, a sleepy voice answers. _“Whazzat?”_

“Dee, you in Gotham?”

There’s a shuffling of blankets. _“Who is this?”_

“It’s _Zinda._  Do ya’ got a couch we can crash on?”

_“Zinda? What the fuck?! It’s been six months! We all thought you were dead!”_

Zinda sighs, running a hand through her hair. “It’s… a long story, Dinah.”

 _“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ sure. You can tell me when you get here,”_ Dinah sighs.

She rattles off an address. It doesn’t take them that long to fly there, and soon they’re landing on her balcony. Potted plants take up most of the space, but there’s a lawn chair set out as well. Zinda raps the sliding glass door three times, then once more for good measure.

“Dinah, this your house? It’s way too nice!” Zinda calls.

The door whips open, revealing Dinah in all her sleep-deprived glory. She’s wearing a pair of Green Arrow boxers and a Wonder Woman shirt that’s two sizes too big, her hair tied up in a half-assed bun. Even with the dark circles under her eyes and fresh bruises up her arms, she looks stunning.

Dinah stares at Zinda for a moment, as if she can’t believe that Zinda is _here,_  that she’s _alive._ Eyes flicker towards Guy and Kyle and then back to Zinda, standing on her balcony with the Green Lantern emblem on her chest. She draws Zinda into her arms, breathing in the scent of her.

“You had us so _worried._  God, I oughta kick your ass _right here_.”

Zinda barks a laugh. That’s her Dinah, alright. “I missed you too, doll. If I’da had fuckin’ _cell service_ in space, you know I woulda’ been callin’ you every night.”

Dinah sighs, letting her go. “Well? Come on in,” she says. And Zinda does.

Dinah disappears into the house to gather extra pillows and blankets for her unexpected guests. Guy and Kyle glance at each other awkwardly before finally entering.

Dinah’s apartment is more homely than one would imagine. Her shelves filled with books and trinkets and it smells like lavender. Countless photographs cover the walls, many of them featuring the Birds of Prey. Others are of Dinah and Ollie, or of Dinah’s mom, the first Black Canary. A few feature her kids, Roy, Mia, and Charlie.

Zinda pauses to stare at a particular photograph of her and her then-girlfriends. They look so happy in this snapshot, laughing over inside jokes and takeout. Zinda can’t remember who took the picture, but it’s obvious that the four of them hadn’t seen it taken. The fact that they were unaware of the camera is what makes the image so genuine.

Guy comes up behind her, resting his arm on her shoulder. “You doin’ okay?”

Zinda nods. “I didn’t know this picture existed,” she tells him, pointing at the frame. “It’s my favorite.”

“Ya’ look happy, so it’s my favorite too.”

“Fuckin’ _sap,_ ” she says, shoving him playfully. Guy only shrugs.

Dinah returns, a large tower of blankets obscuring her head from view. “Zinda, you can sleep in the bed with me. Kyle, you can take the couch.” She pushes the blankets into Kyle’s arms. “Good to see you, by the way.”

“You too, Dinah,” Kyle grins.

“An’ what about me?” Guy asks.

“You? You can take the _floor_.”

He laughs. “I ever do somethin’ to ya’, Canary?”

Dinah hums, tapping a finger on her lips. “Well, your evil clone _did_ try to make out with me once.”

“ _God_ , that guy’s a bastard,” Zinda groans.

“It ain’t a problem, Dinah.” Guy isn’t bothered by only being offered the floor. He could easily construct a bed that’s comfier than Dinah’s and that’s _exactly_ what he’s planning to do.

Zinda follows Dinah to her room as Guy and Kyle set off to commandeer the living room. Dinah’s room is messy—it’s clear she was not expecting company, and Zinda didn’t exactly give her much warning. She picks up a little bit, throwing her stray clothes in the hamper before flopping face-first on her bed. It’s a king size, and probably costs way more than Dinah could typically afford. Her and Oliver must be dating again.

Zinda lets her uniform disappear and changes into a fresh pair of pyjamas as Dinah scrolls through her phone. She joins Dinah in the bed, tucking herself under the covers. She turns on her side to face her.

“I’m sorry for wakin’ you up at this ungodly hour. Glad you picked up the phone though.” Zinda says, voice hushed.

“Me too,” Dinah whispers. “I’m glad you’re not dead. Are you gonna tell the others?”

“Of course. ‘Cept my phone was at my apartment an’ I bet they’ve given all my stuff ta’ charity by now.”

“Nah, Babs saved it. You can donate that shit yourself. For now, though, just borrow my phone.” Dinah fumbles for it on her bedside table and hands it to Zinda.

Zinda opens the messaging app, unsure what to say. It’s been a long time, longer than she ever meant for. What _can_ she say? Then, an idea hits her.

She taps the camera icon, squishing her and Dinah into frame. Middle finger up, she proudly displays her green power ring and snaps the picture. She types out a few brief words to go with it.

_[Dinah Lance] Attachment.jpg_

_[Dinah Lance] i lived bitch_

_Read at 6:03 am_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I _swear_ the birds are gonna meet up next chapter. it was supposed to be in this chapter, but all of the sudden things got really deep and way longer than expected.


	5. Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months ago, Zinda Blake disappeared.

Six months ago, Zinda Blake and Barbara Gordon had planned to meet for lunch.

Barbara arrived at the café at half past two. The place she had chosen was a small shop in the heart of downtown. It had only opened its doors recently, but reviewers were already raving about their food. The day was sunny and warm, a rare occurrence for Gotham City (not that Barbara minded). She grabbed them a table outside and two menus, content to soak up the sun while she waited on her companion. After waiting for fifteen minutes, she ordered a coffee. The waitress had been waiting patiently for her order and Barbara couldn’t help but feel bad.

After an hour, she started to worry.

Zinda wasn’t the most punctual person, but being this late was unlike her. If she knew she was going to be late, she would at least _tell_ Barbara. Maybe she was still asleep, or dealing with a brutal hangover. All were normal reasons for Zinda to be that late. And yet, there was that deep-set _wrongness_ in her gut that she couldn’t ignore. She could count on one hand the number of times her gut feeling had been wrong.

Fishing out her phone, Barbara punched in Zinda’s speed dial. Number three, for the third of her Birds. It rang twice, then a few times more before finally going to voicemail. Barbara hung up. The feeling of nausea joined her dread as she hastily redialed the phone, praying, _praying_ Zinda would pick up this time. She didn’t. She dialed Dinah instead.

“Dinah, I can’t reach Zinda. Maybe I’m overreacting but something’s not right and I can’t help but feel like—” Barbara said as soon as Dinah picked up the phone. She didn’t even give Dinah the chance to say hello.

_“Slow down, Babs. What?”_

“I was supposed to meet Zinda, but she’s not here and it’s been an hour and I can’t help but feel like something’s _wrong_.”

_“Babs, I’m sure everything’s fine. If it makes you feel better, I can have Mia watch the flower shop while I swing by Zinda’s apartment.”_

Barbara nodded to herself. “Yeah, yeah that would be great.”

 _“Take a deep breath,”_ Dinah assured. _“I’m sure she’s just sleeping in.”_

+++

The window was unlocked.

It was odd, Dinah thought, since Zinda was never the type to leave part of her home unsecured, but there was no sign of a forced entry. Dinah hoisted herself through the window—she _did_ have a key, but she’d lost it weeks ago.

Zinda’s house could only be described as organized chaos. It wasn’t unclean, per se, but her things filled nearly every inch of the room. There were dishes in the sink, books on the table, and clothes on the floor. Zinda didn’t own many sentimental items, only a few photo albums and awards from her service that were all where they should be. Her sewing table was set up by the window Dinah had come in through, several half-finished patterns draped over the chair. A well-established layer of dust coated the machine. Dinah wasn’t even sure Zinda _knew_ how to sew. Her bookcases were filled to the brim with all the novels people had suggested to her over the years, and the ones that didn’t fit on the shelves had been stacked on the coffee table. Among them was a copy of _Ender’s Game_ that Dinah remembered loaning to Zinda years ago. A bookmark stuck out of the first few pages, as if Zinda had only just started it.

Dinah continued to survey the room, searching for any signs of damage, but not a thing was out of place.

She moved on to Zinda’s bedroom. On the bed was a lump of sheets, vaguely humanoid in shape. _There_ she was!

In one fluid motion, Dinah yanked the comforter from the bed. “Get up, babe!”

But underneath the sheets there was nothing.

“Zinda, this isn’t funny,” Dinah said, voice tinged with worry.

She checked the closet, then the drawers. All full. Even her _Blackhawk uniform_ was where it should be. There was food in the fridge (though slightly spoiled) and shoes by the door, but Zinda was nowhere to be found. Dinah ran a hand through her hair, fingers tangling on split ends. Maybe she went out to the store. Maybe she forgot about her lunch date with Babs and had made other plans. But her phone was still at her bedside table and her guns were in their drawer, all signs that she hadn’t planned to leave. Beside her phone rested a small golden locket—the one thing Zinda _never_ left home without.

Dinah flicked open the locket. Inside was a small photo of a woman, the picture yellowed with age but her beauty still clear. The woman had Zinda’s same golden hair, same light, playful eyes and warm smile. It would be clear to anyone that this was Zinda’s mother. But why was the locket here when Zinda wasn’t? Dinah rummaged around for Zinda’s dog tags, but those were gone as she was. That could mean two things: either they were stolen, or Zinda was still wearing them.

She wouldn’t just _leave_ , would she? Certainly not without her only remaining photo of her mother.

Dinah slipped the necklace into her pocket then curled into herself on Zinda’s mattress. It still smelled like her, but the scent was old. Stale. She dialed Babs, who answered by the second ring.

 _“Well? Did you find her?”_ Dinah sighed into the sheets. “She’s not here. It’s like she just… _vanished_.”

“ _I’m coming over. I’ve got a favor to call in with Barry, maybe he can find something._ ”

“Okay, just… please, tell him to hurry.”

 _“Don’t think that’ll be a problem,”_ Barbara laughed, but it sounded forced.

Barbara hung up on her. She could have moved and gone search the apartment some more, but instead Dinah opted to lay there, surrounded by Zinda’s sheets and the fleeting smell of her perfume. Thousands of thoughts raced through her mind as she tried to think up just _what_ might have happened to Zinda. Dinah had lost enough loved ones, and for Zinda to disappear as well? She didn’t know if she could handle it.

She wasn’t sure _how_ much time passed before Barry phased through the door, forensics kit in hand. He asked her so many questions— did Zinda say she was going anywhere? Was any of her stuff missing? Did she know of anyone who might try to hurt her? Dinah answered them the best she could but she was seconds away from breaking. What if Zinda was _dead?_ Dinah had lost too many loved ones already. Her parents, Sin, Lian… and far too many teammates. She couldn’t lose Zinda too.

Barbara arrived as Barry was dusting for prints on the window. She pulled Dinah into a hug as soon as she saw her, Zinda’s blanket wrapped around her shoulders and staring blankly at one of the photo albums.

“We’re _going_ to find her. I’ll pull in every favor I’ve got to bring our girl home.”

+++

When Babs has called her to the Clocktower, Helena assumed they had a mission.

She was _dead_ wrong.

Dinah and Babs were already waiting for her when she arrived. She snuck in through the window but the creak of old floorboards announced her presence. Barbara was typing away at something and Dinah was sitting on the couch, eyes hollow like she hadn’t slept in days. They never used that couch; it was dirty and old and probably infested with _something_ , but it had been there since Barbara had bought the Clocktower. Dinah looked up at Helena when she came in, but didn’t say a word. Helena set her crossbow on the table, pushing back her mask. She put a hand on Dinah’s shoulder; Dinah seemed to lean in to the touch.

“Zinda is gone. Missing. Taken. I don’t know. What I do know is that we’ll find her,” Babs said, wheeling her chair around to face them. She filled Helena in on what they’ve learned so far. The Flash’s report concluded that Zinda had been missing for possibly three weeks now, but not much else. Nothing was broken. Nothing was stolen. The only thing missing was _Zinda._

How could Barbara be so _calm_ ? How could this _happen_ ? They all knew Zinda could take care of herself; it would have cost more than a gang of armature creeps to take her out. Babs kept talking, but Helena could no longer hear her. Blood _pounded_ in her ears. Helena screamed; It was a wild, guttural _cry_ as she put her fist through the wall. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Barbara flinch.

Helena yanked her fist out of the drywall, knuckles bloodied and covered in dust. Her last two fingers were bent a bit too far to the left and agony flared through her as she tried to move them.

“How long did it take you to notice,” Helena said, her voice wavering slightly. She balled her fists and the pain was like _fire_.

“I’m sorry?” Barbara replied.

“I _said_ , how long did it take you to _notice_ ,” She growled.

Dinah sobbed. Helena continued.

“You talk to her, what, once a month? You’d give her a flimsy ‘how are you’, like you actually care. But you _don’t_ care, do you.” Angry tears blurred her vision. “Cause if you cared, maybe you’d have done something as simple as putting a _goddamn security system_ in her home! You never even _asked_ her if she wanted to be a Bird again, Babs! And now she could be _dead_.”

“She, she didn’t want—“ Barbara struggled to say something, _anything_ , but her chance had passed.

Broken fingers curled around her crossbow and her mask slid back over her face. “Don’t call me again,” Helena said, shooting her grappling hook as far away as she could. She let herself drop out the window and fall, descending back to her city.

Zinda was gone. Tonight, the Huntress was out for blood. Gotham was a dangerous place to be a criminal.

+++

Charlie hadn’t heard from Babs in weeks. It was odd, considering that Barbara had some form of communication with her at _all_ times. She decided paying her mom a visit was a good idea. Charlie had laundry she needed to do anyways and her clothes always seemed to get stolen from the washing machine in her dorm.

She bounced across town to Barbara’s apartment in mere seconds, laundry bag in tow. For some reason, nearly all the lights were off. Maybe she was sleeping?

“Babs? Hello?” She called, easing open the door to Barbara’s study.

The shades were drawn and all the lights are off, save for a single lamp on her desk. Half empty coffee cups and dirty plates littered the room. And the walls… The walls were covered in maps, documents, and handwritten notes that she can’t quite make out in the darkness. It looked like some kind of… _evidence_ wall, like the kind Renee made while she worked a case, only this one was much less organized. There was an air of _desperation_ to it. Did something happen? Barbara slept, hunched over her laptop, not stirring even slightly when Charlie came in.

Charlie flicked on the lights and Barbara yelped, jolting awake. “Wh—Charlie!? God, what _time_ is it?” She said, rubbing her eyes. Her glasses were askew and her hair was a mess. Barbara had a tendency to overwork herself; It was good that Charlie had decided to stop by.

“Not sure, but it’s _well_ past noon,” Charlie said. “Man, what _is_ all this? I just came here to do my laundry, not bulk up on conspiracy theories.”

“They’re not—they’re not conspiracy theories.”

Her eyes flickered to the photos on the wall, now illuminated by light. Then Charlie realized who the evidence wall was for. The bag of clothes fell from her grasp. She stepped closer, hand coming up to brush the photo of Zinda. It had been too dark to see it before. Charlie had this same photo framed in her dorm, the photo of her hoisted up on Zinda’s shoulders with Dinah, Helena, and Babs at their side. The face of everyone but Zinda had been scribbled out and a sticky note was placed under them, reading “ _KIDNAPPED?? ARGUS??”_ in bright red ink.

The rest of the wall was worse. A torn page from a textbook detailing the exploits of the Blackhawks was sloppily taped to it. “ _RETURNED TO TIMELINE? LOST IN TIME??”_ was scrawled across it. The map was covered in push pins and pen marks, detailing possible leads in nearly every major city. She even had Amanda Waller’s _phone records_ . What had that cost her? Charlie’s hand trembled as it brushed across the length of yarn connecting an ARGUS profile to a grainy photo of Zinda sitting in a diner. The photo was dated from two months ago and “ _LAST PUBLIC SIGHTING_ ” had been added below.

“Babs, what… what _is_ this?”

“Every lead I’ve got on Zinda’s disappearance,” Babs replied quietly.

“Her... her disappearance?” Charlie distantly felt Babs leading her to a chair, but everything was so out of touch.

“Zinda has been missing for seven weeks, Charlie.”

“No, you’re _lying_ ,” Charlie insisted. “She wouldn’t leave me, Babs, she _promised_.”

As hot tears hit her clenched fists, she recalled the night Zinda had burst into her room in panic after she’d woken up screaming. Zinda held her, comforted her after such an awful nightmare.

 _“My parents, they… the fire…”_ Charlie had sobbed, the words tangled on her tongue.

Zinda wiped her tears, walking her step by step back to normal. It was so natural for her, like she had done it too many times it before. She offered Charlie a cup of water; Charlie didn’t drink it, but the cool glass felt nice in her hands.

Once Charlie had calmed, Zinda stood up to leave. She hadn’t known what time it was, only that it was much too late to still be awake. Her hand reached out before Zinda could move too far away, catching on her nightgown.

 _“Please don’t leave,”_ Charlie had pleaded, so quietly she barely heard her own words.

 _“I won’t.”_ Zinda pulled her into her arms once more, and Charlie felt herself relax.

_“Promise?”_

_“I promise.”_

She would _never_ abandon Charlie. Why would Babs even _think_ that?

Charlie was only fourteen when the Birds of Prey took her in. She had been on her own since the death of her parents, but suddenly, Charlie was no longer an orphan. In the Birds, she found four people who loved her fiercely, taking her in as their own. Each of them had the different aspects of a parent. Barbara was strict, Dinah was kind, Helena was the shoulder to cry on, and Zinda? Zinda was _fun_ . Zinda was the one who took her to rated R movies without Babs’ permission. She had taken Charlie to her first concert, even if it was a jazz festival and Charlie had been bored for most of it. When Charlie wanted to have fun and live her life, to feel like a _normal_ teenager for a change, Zinda was there to help her do it.

“Charlie, I know it’s a lot to process but—”

She stood up suddenly, startling Barbara. “I, I can’t be here. I have to go, I just—”

With a poof, she was gone, traveling far away from Barbara’s apartment and the haunting wall of evidence. She hadn’t even remembered to grab her laundry.

That night, she had a nightmare. Only this time, Zinda wasn’t there to wake her.

+++

Out of the four of them, Helena took things the hardest.

Since Zinda went missing (not missing— _dead_ ) she’d been living her life in a haze. Every day was the same; eat, sleep, then take to the streets. It was like everything had been dulled. Everything except her pain, which had been sharpened to a point.

Helena cut herself off from everyone. She stopped showing up for work, throwing all of her energy into being Huntress. There was a possibility that she’d been fired by now but she just couldn’t bring herself to care.

As she hunched beside a Gotham gargoyle, her phone vibrated against her. She let it go straight to voicemail. It was probably from Babs. Just today, she’d received 21 missed calls, only two of them from Dinah. The rest were all Barbara. She _told_ them not to call, but neither of them knew how to fucking _listen_.

Maybe she should listen to them at some point, but all the messages so far have been Barbara’s whack conspiracy theories about why Zinda couldn’t _possibly_ be dead. Her latest theory was that ARGUS had taken Zinda for the secret to her slowed aging, caused by her prolonged exposure to the time stream during Zero Hour. That wasn’t even her _wildest_ idea. Barbara needed to move on. That’s what Helena was doing.

Her hacked police scanner crackled to life in her ear, alerting her to a bank robbery happening only a few blocks away. She wasn’t sure why people still tried that shit. There were so many vigilantes in Gotham now, it rarely ever worked out for the burglar.

Helena soared across the Gotham City skyline on her grappling hook. It didn’t take her long to reach the bank in question. The police hadn’t arrived. Good. She assesses the situation from outside; there were two men, each clad in a ski mask. One held the teller at gunpoint while the other threatened the few customers who had the misfortune of being in the bank at this hour.

Their backs were turned to her when she waltzed through front door. No other entrances were available, so while the front door was the obvious option, it was her _only_ option.

She tapped the first man on the shoulder, punching him square in the jaw when he whirls around. He went down like a lead weight, groaning and clutching his face. She aimed her crossbow at his calf, firing.

“ _Stay down_.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the glint of a knife as the second robber lunged for her. His form was _atrocious_ . She parried the blow, catching his wrist instead. And oh, it snapped so _easily_. He crumpled to the ground, crying out.

“You _bitch_!” He gritted out.

Helena was on him in a flash,  fist connecting against his cheekbone with a sickening _crack_.

“Don’t you _ever_. Call. Me. That,” Helena growled, punctuating each word with a blow. The world burned away, leaving only her and this man, this _criminal._ And lord, it was not the day for him to get on her bad side.

She was so deep in this fight—no, this _beating_ —that she didn’t even hear the sirens approaching. All she could do was hit him again and again and _again_ , like a tape rewound and played over again. His skull hit the linoleum floor with an awful _crack._ The slick of blood against her fists was a distant feeling. She was so far out of her body that nothing meant _anything_ anymore.

A set of hands were on her, pulling her off the man. She struggled against them, but they held fast. She wasn’t not _finished_ yet. He needed to pay, he needed—

“ _Huntress!_ ”

The familiar voice brought her back to herself. It was _Renee_ pulling her off him. Renee Montoya, her _girlfriend_ , who was here because the cops were here, ready to do their job. But their guns weren’t aimed at the burglars. They were aimed at _her._

When she saw the battered man at her feet her stomach lurched. His face was unnaturally swollen, red and purple bruises already beginning to form. Was he even breathing?

Oh god. _She_ did that.

“R-Renee, I’m—”

“On your knees, hands behind your head,” Renee replied, her tone dead serious.

Helena dropped to her knees, wrists ready to be cuffed. But they weren’t taking her in.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, throwing her elbow back into Renee’s chest just hard enough to make her stumble backwards.

Then she dropped a flash grenade and _ran_.

+++

When Helena ducked through the window of her apartment, Renee was waiting for her. She’d done a few rounds of the city before returning home, just in case the police were following her. All she wanted was to gear down, have a drink, and go to bed, not confront what she’d done. But when she saw Renee on her couch, impassive expression on her face. Of course Renee would be here, they _lived_ together. Renee would want to talk about what happened, even if all Helena wanted was to sleep till she couldn’t wake up. She knew there would be no avoiding this tonight.

“Is he okay?” she asked quietly.

“He’ll live,” was all Renee said.

Helena set her mask on the table, letting out a shaky breath sitting down beside Renee. Her head in her hands and she let the tears fall.

“I, I lost control, ‘Nay,” she sobbed. “I nearly _killed_ that man! And Huntress _can’t_ lose control. Gotham already doesn’t trust me. Never has. They think, they think I’m dangerous. They’re _right_.”

Renee held her as she cried, all her guilt and despair rushing back to her. She’d been shutting herself off for months now, but after tonight, the cracks in her carefully constructed walls were splintering.

“Is this about Zinda?” ‘Lena, I need you to talk to me.”

Helena’s silence was all too telling.

“They’re gonna find her,” Renee reassured. “I’ve been working with Babs on her investigation and I’m _positive_ this lead is the one.”

“You’ve been saying that for every lead since you started. Why can’t anyone admit it? She’s _dead_ , Renee. Babs has been searching for nearly half a year, and what has she found? _Nothing_.” She sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“You’ve got to give it _time_ , sweetheart.”

“I’ve _been_ giving it time! But I can’t keep pretending she’s out there, alive somewhere. There’s been no sign of her. Zinda is long dead and _I’m_ the only one who seems to understand that!”

“You’re angry, I understand—”

“ _Do_ you?” Helena shouted.

Renee went silent. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound heard was the tick of the clock.

“You’re not the only one who’s lost a friend.” Renee was so quiet, Helena almost didn’t hear her. She wouldn’t meet Helena’s eyes.

Oh.

 _Vic_.

Vic Sage. The original Question. The man who trained Renee, passing the mantle of The Question to her before his death. She knew how much he had meant to her girlfriend—he meant just as much to her. When Helena began as Huntress, she was lost and dangerous. But Vic, Vic wanted more for her. He took her to be trained by his master, hoping that she could learn that killing was not always the solution. It was because of _him_ that she was the person she was today.

Only in that moment did Helena realize how close she had become to the violent Huntress of her past. The very thought of becoming that person again _terrified_ her.

Helena gently wiped away the tear trickling down Renee’s cheek. “ _Nay_ … I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that. I miss him too.”

“I know,” Renee said. Her expression was veiled. Was she angry with her? Disappointed? Even when she wasn’t wearing her mask, Helena couldn’t always read her.

“I can’t keep doing this,” she confessed. “Renee, I’m scared of the person I’m becoming. But Gotham, Gotham _needs_ a Huntress.”

“The world will keep turning without Huntress, lover,” Renee murmured.

Renee took her hand, interlocking their fingers. With such a simple gesture, Helena understood. Helena had been so stupid, lashing out and using pointed words she didn’t mean, but Renee _did_ know what she was going through. She regretted ever implying otherwise. But this, holding hands between their tears, meant forgiveness. It meant taking the future one day at a time.

Neither of them said it, but they both understood that tonight would be Helena’s last outing as Huntress. Helena _did_ need time. It would be a while before she was ready to pick up her mask and crossbow. As much as packing away the cape hurt, it was for the best. She needed time to handle her anger, to come to terms losing someone she loved. She chose to take comfort in Renee, who would always be there for her. For Helena, she would be kind and consoling. For Helena, she would be patient.

Huntress didn’t appear the next night, nor the night after.

+++

They were coming up on half a year since Zinda’s disappearance. Barbara, sick and tired of them feeling sorry for themselves alone, had lured Charlie and Dinah over with the promise of a free dinner. She hadn’t brought up a single theory about the disappearance all night. Perhaps she truly _was_ moving on.

 _Half a year_. It felt like it had gone by so quickly. By now, they knew Zinda wasn’t coming back. There was no other option besides accepting this and finding some way to move on. Still, it didn’t feel right to move on without saying goodbye.

“Do you think we oughta give her a funeral?” Charlie asked quietly, picking at the last bits of her chow mein.

A misty look crossed Dinah’s eyes. “I’m tired of burying empty coffins.”

“Then we skip straight to the reception,” Barbara offered. “We’ve already got the food, now all we need is to get roaring drunk. She would have liked that, I think.”

She wheeled to the kitchen, fetching a bottle of vodka that she didn’t even remember buying and a few glasses. Barbara passed it to Dinah, who twisted it open and raised it high.

“A toast, then. In true Zinda fashion.” Dinah declared, taking a swig and passing it to Babs.

Barbara started to pour herself a glass, but Dinah stopped her.

“No, Babs. Tonight, we’re drinking straight from the bottle.”

Barbara shook her head with a smile, then took a drink as well.

Charlie reached for the bottle, earning a disapproving look from Barbara.

“You’re a few months short of twenty-one, kiddo,” she said.

Charlie scoffed. “Zinda would have let me and you know it. She let me have my first sip at sixteen, said it was a rite of passage.”

Barbara and Dinah both gaped at each other, prompting Charlie snatched the bottle while they were distracted. She took a drink before they could stop her, nearly choking on it.

“ _God_ , that’s awful,” she coughed. “Y’all really enjoy this stuff?”

“It feels good but it tastes terrible,” Dinah laughed. Her laughter sounded light, lighter than it had been in months. She was right though: within moments, the burn faded to a pleasant warmth in her core. Charlie reached for the bottle again, but Dinah moved it out of her range.

“Helena should be here,” Charlie said quietly. The whole room nodded solemnly. “Haven’t seen her since… god, I’m not even sure. I got her Huntress gear in the mail a while back, no note or nothin’”

“She wants you to take over.” Babs said. It wasn’t a question—she wouldn’t be a very good Oracle if she hadn’t known Charlie was the new cape patrolling the streets as Huntress.

“Seems that way. Huntress hasn’t been seen since…” she trailed off. They’d _all_ heard about what happened at the bank.

“God _,_ I wish she would just _talk_ to me,” Babs sighed, frustrated even just _thinking_ about it. Dinah handed the bottle back to her and she took it graciously.

A knock at the door interrupted their silence. Charlie bounced across the room to get it, not bothering with walking.

Standing on the front steps was Helena Bertinelli, in the flesh.

Helena was the last person Charlie expected to see tonight. She stood in faded jeans in a sweatshirt, looking surprisingly awkward as she waited to be invited inside. Charlie didn’t even know Helena could _be_ awkward. At least she looked well rested: no dark circles under her eyes, no exhaustion in her stance. She held out a bottle of whiskey to Charlie.

“Dinah called me,” she said, biting her lip. “Peace offering?”

Charlie flung her arms around the woman, squeezing her tight with no intent of letting go. Helena stiffened at first but quickly relaxed into it. She’d missed Helena so much, not realizing just _how_ much until now.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Charlie whispered into Helena’s hair.

“Me too, Misfit. Me too.”

Charlie grinned. “Haven’t you heard? It’s Huntress now.”

Helena tried to smile. The tension in her jaw was subtle, but not subtle enough.

“It’s yours, you know, whenever you want it back,” Charlie assured her.

She took her by the hand, leading her to the living room where Babs and Dinah waited. Helena hugged them both, and Charlie could see how she unwound the longer she was near them. Dinah made grabby hands at the whiskey and Charlie handed it over.

“ _Finally_ , something drinkable.”

Barbara rolled her eyes. “I thought you cared about getting drunk, not what it tastes like.”

“For Zinda Blake, may she rest in peace,” Dinah said, ignoring Babs and taking a large swig of Helena’s whiskey.

Helena snorted. “ _Rest in peace_ ? You _know_ she’d be haunting us if she could.”

They laughed together for what feels like the first time in ages. It felt so wonderful to be gathered like this, even if it was to mourn. No, it was to _honor_. Zinda would never want them to mourn her.

Helena took the whiskey from Dinah and poured some into the untouched glass on the table. A glass for their fallen friend. Babs raised her eyebrows, as if to say ‘ _you can do better than that.’_ Helena topped off the glass.

“Helena, how have you been since…” Dinah waved a hand. She didn’t say it, but they knew what she meant; what had she been doing since giving up the mantle of Huntress?

“I’ve been… doing better,” Helena replied, looking down at her hands. “Been getting help.”

She ran a hand through her dark hair. It was shorter than the last time they’d seen her. “I ought to apologize to you all. That night, at the Clocktower, I was just so _angry_ . The things I said… I didn’t mean it. _God_ , I didn’t mean it.”

“I’m proud of you,” Barbara said kindly. She smiled softly. “It’s not always easy to do that, to get help when you need it. I know we didn’t part on the best of terms, but I forgave you as soon as you left that night.” Dinah nodded in agreement.

“You should know…” Barbara continued. “I told your school you were taking a mental health break. It might take some work convincing that principal, but your classroom is there for you when you’re ready.”

Helena looked like she might cry at that. “Babs, I… _Thank_ you. I don’t know I deserve it, but thank you.”

She turned to face the youngest of the four. “And you, Charlie, I didn’t even _ask_ you if you wanted to be Huntress. I just dropped the costume and ran. I’m glad you took it. You’ve already done so much good as Huntress, more than I ever did. I couldn’t be _prouder_ of you, kid. I’m sorry for making you deal with my selfish ass.”

“Who are you kidding!? I _love_ being Huntress. Misfit was feeling a bit small,” Charlie laughed. Helena was _proud_ of her. She let that soak into her bones; the approval from her Helena, from her mom, from _the_ _Huntress_ , meant the world to her.

The four talked into the early hours of the morning, sharing story after story about the misadventures of Zinda Blake even after the liquor was long gone. They’d stayed away from each other for much too long, but even after their time apart, they fit. They laughed and talked and drank like nothing had ever changed, because it was what they _should_ do. Zinda was a piece of them—always would be—but she was gone. They had to accept it. Move on. There was nothing else left to do.

+++

The call roused her well past midnight. Dinah turned over to seize her phone, the bright light and shrill sounds amplified by her still-sleepy mind.

She didn’t recognize the number, and the area code was equally unfamiliar. Under normal circumstances, she would hang up and go back to bed, but there was a tugging feeling in her gut that begged her not to ignore this.

“ _Dee, you in Gotham?”_

That _voice_ , she knew that voice! Dinah had resigned herself to never hearing it again. Her ex-girlfriend, presumed dead, dearly missed. Now she was just ex-dead, it seemed.

“Who is this?” She asked. She had to be sure. If she was wrong, it would be devastating.

“ _It’s Zinda._ ” Dinah covered her mouth, holding back a sob. “ _Do ya’ got a couch we can crash on?_ ”

Zinda was _alive_ , after all this time. Joy runs through her veins, quickly followed by anger.

 _"_ Zinda? What the fuck?! It’s been six months! We all thought you were dead! _"_

There was a crackling static as Zinda sighed. " _It's a long story, Dinah."_

"Yeah, I'm fuckin' sure. You can tell me when you get here,” Dinah said. She gave Zinda her address and hung up the phone, letting out the ragged breath she'd been holding since she answered the call. Was this really happening?

As she moved to leave her bedroom, she caught a glance of herself in the long mirror by the dresser. Her hair was a bleach blonde disaster and bruises like fingertips littered her arms from her last night on the streets, but she was _okay_. She didn't look hollow like she had months ago. Dinah had been moving on like she was supposed to, and doing a fairly good job of it too. Not that it mattered now.

There was a knock at the window of her balcony, the one facing the busy street. Dinah parted the curtains, and there she was.

 _Zinda_.

Surprisingly, the Green Lantern outfit wasn't the first thing Dinah noticed about Zinda. She looked different than before, but it wasn't just her crisp new uniform. No, she had regained that aura of _will_ and confidence that Dinah had seen the first night they met. Guy Gardner and Kyle Rayner flanked her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Kyle—it had to have been when Connor was the Green Arrow.

Seeing Zinda like this, dressed in bright green beside her two fellow Lanterns, everything fell into place. How had she _missed_ it? Zinda's disappearance had been so much like Hal's: gone in the middle of the night, whisked away to an alien planet with no means to contact Earth. The solution had been right in front of her, but Dinah had been too blinded by her grief to put it together.

She should have seen it.

Dinah undid the latch to the balcony, motioning her three guests inside. The two women stared for a moment, not sure who should speak. It was Dinah who embraced her first.

She'd missed this so _much_ , the warmth of Zinda, the smell of her shampoo… She'd _dreamt_ about it. After all this time, Zinda was back. She hadn’t been kidnapped, she hadn't been murdered, she was _alive_ . But as overjoyed as she was, Dinah couldn't help but feel like this was a testament the Birds' failure. She’d given up on Zinda. They _all_ had. After months and months of looking, they were so sure she was gone. But they were wrong.

Emotions swirled like sandstorms while Dinah tried to think of what to say. She was relieved to see her, of course, but that didn't lessen the sting of it all. Zinda had left them without saying goodbye, leaving Dinah and the others a wreck for months.

"You had us so worried. God, I oughta kick your ass right here," Dinah finally said. She tried to play it off as humorous, not wanted Zinda to see how much she’d been hurting.

Zinda's laughter was a well-aimed punch: short, powerful, and right on target. "I missed you too, doll. If I'da had fuckin' cell service in space, you know I woulda' been calling you every night."

Deep down, Dinah knew Zinda was right. It wasn't her fault that she had been out of contact, she had been in another galaxy! But even so, there was that twinge of hurt. _If Zinda really cared, wouldn't she have found a way?_ Dinah pushes the thought deep down.

Dinah would have loved to keep Zinda in her arms like this forever, but she had two more guests waiting in the cold. She let Zinda go, squeezing her bicep lightly.

"Well? Come on in."

It was nice to be whole again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was something a little different. Wombat suggested a flashback to the bird's reaction to Zinda's disappearance, and then it went off the rails because i'm a filthy angst goblin who doesn't know when to stop. i've also thrown word count limits out the window, so this chapter is 6k now and the longest one yet... i'm still in shock over that.  
> if you didn't notice, i played with the 5 stages of grief with this chapter. i'm.. really proud of how it ended up. Charlie is denial, Helena is anger, Babs is bargaining, Dinah is depression, and by the end, they've reached acceptance together.  
> and i KNOW i promised BoP brunch, i swear i'll get there eventually. first thing next chapter or ya'll have permission to kick my ass.  
> on another note, [i wrote a quick one shot in this universe!!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12764310) it's Guy n Kyle n Zinda and it's fluffy with a dash of angst, just how i like it.  
> thanks for reading!


	6. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zinda is back with her family, but not everything is as okay as she'd hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall!  
> sorry it's been so long, i got swept up in finals, the holidays, procrastination, etc.  
> this time we FINALLY get that birds of prey lunch ive been promising for so long. if im being honest, it was the hardest part to write so far. i made the mistake of hyping it up so much that when it was finally time to write it, i couldnt get it to meet my expectations :/ i hope you like it more than i do  
> thanks to wombat, as always, for being an amazing beta and dragging hal jordan in her edits (as always)  
> enjoy!

_[Dinah Lance] Attachment.jpg_

_[Dinah Lance] i lived bitch_

_[Incoming Call from: Babs Gordon]_

_[Call Declined]_

_[Babs Gordon] Answer the fucking phone_

_[Misfit] see u in 5 seconds_

_[Misfit] its real!!! shes alive!!!!!!_

_[Helena B.] I’m going to kill you?_

 

_Sent at 8:12 am_

+++

It’s been awhile since she woke up in Dinah’s bed. It’s familiar, of course—the same knitted Afghan, the same mess of blonde hair beside her—but it still takes Zinda a moment to remember where she is. Gotham City. _Home_. Earth will always be home, even if she hasn’t called it that in quite some time. Zinda eases her way out from under the covers, walking to the window to gaze at the streets below. It’s not even seven in the morning yet and Gotham is already awake and bustling. The blaring car horns of frustrated commuters has always been the soundtrack to a Gotham morning.

Dinah is still snoring soundly, shifting in her sleep ever so often. Gazing back at her from the window, the woman’s sleeping figure draped in sunlight. She looks so human—like a masterpiece. Seeing her like this, face scrunched up and hair in blond tangles, makes Zinda feel like she’s fallen in love all over again. She’s so _peaceful_. Zinda can only hope life has been treating her well, but with the lives they both lead, things aren’t always fair.

Even if her and Dinah aren’t together now, they’ll always have a past. It’s always been an unspoken truth that the four Birds of Prey will always care for each other, regardless of if their relationship is in an off stage. What they have is a love that stays strong no matter how many times they drift apart or break up. Unless things have changed since she left, Dinah is with Ollie again, and Helena has been seeing the Question for a while now. But that still doesn’t make what Zinda had with them any less real. Maybe someday they would get back together, and maybe they wouldn’t. What matters was that she was with Dinah again, and she would be with Babs, Helena, and Charlie soon.

Zinda brushes a hand against Dinah’s cheek and Dinah sighs at the touch. A soft smile brightened Zinda’s face as she gazed down at her best friend, the woman she would always love. She tugs on a pair of Dinah’s too-big bunny slippers and eases open the door, wary of any creaking hinges that might wake the Black Canary.

Zinda pads down the hall to check on Guy and Kyle. Maybe one of them will be awake enough to help make their host breakfast—everyone knows Zinda can’t cook worth a damn. She finds them in the living room on a construct mattress fit for a king. Or two, seeing as Kyle had migrated to Guy’s bed during the night and now slept comfortably on top of him. She snorts. They look _ridiculous_. And how did Guy managed to concentrate hard enough to keep a construct stable while _sleeping_? It’s impressive, to say the least.

Zinda forgoes the rude awakening and shakes the pair awake. “Kyle, Kyle you’re the only one who can cook. Can ya fry up some eggs for your fella and my gal? Who kindly lent you her home last night?”

Kyle groans something indecipherable in response. Guy pats him on the back, pushing back the covers and getting out of their bed. “He needs coffee first, doll. Coffee first.”

Zinda goes to rummage through the kitchen in search of the coffee maker, but comes up empty. The closest thing she finds is an odd hot water machine with a stack of tiny pods beside it, each labeled with various coffee brands. She tries to open one, but she’s not even sure it’s _meant_ to be open. Even after this long in the future, she still finds herself struggling with simple technology. It’s frustrating, to say the least. Zinda glances at Guy with confused eyes.

“What in tha’ fresh hell is this?” She asks him.

Guy chuckles, opening the top of the not-coffee maker and popping the pod inside. “It’s a Keurig, old bird. One cup coffee pods. My sister has one.”

Zinda makes a show of rolling her eyes at the nickname—she’d never admit it’s kind of sweet. “Your sister, huh? Is she single?”

“She’s a cop, so she’d kick my ass an’ yours right after.”

“Hot,” says Zinda, nodding thoughtfully. Guy only groans.

Zinda has known Guy for a long time, but Guy has rarely been one to talk about his family. She did meet his mother briefly while working at Warriors, but frankly, the woman had been terrifying and she’d steered clear. Of course she knows that his dad was a real bastard, but his siblings are a mystery. Zinda has heard mentions of a brother from a few sources, but Guy has always kept quiet about his family life. Sometimes she wonders why he hasn't told her, considering that she’s shared nearly all of her secrets with him, but she knows that isn't exactly fair. All she can do is respect Guy’s privacy and listen when he’s ready to tell her.

Zinda packs that tidbit of information away for another day; right now, she’s tired and hungry and the one man who can solve those problems is currently hiding in a construct blanket cocoon. Together, her and Guy manage to work the futuristic coffee machine and press a hot cup of coffee in to Kyle’s hands. That gets him moving, and before long he’s ordering them around the kitchen just as they’d hoped.

They’re lucky that Ollie can cook better than Dinah, meaning the cabinets are well-stocked. Guy finds a bag of pancake mix and holds it up to Kyle expectantly. Kyle nods, telling them what ingredients to measure while he searches for a pan. They find blueberries in the freezer and vanilla in the cupboard, and their first pancake is just starting to sizzle when Dinah wanders out of the bedroom to join them.

Zinda leads her to the chair at the kitchen island, placing a cup of coffee and their first pancake on a plate in front of her. Dinah squints like the pancake means to cause her harm.

“What’s all this about, Zee?”

“What, I can’t do a little somethin’ for my favorite Black Canary?”

“Don’t let her take all the credit,” Guy chimes in. “Kyle here is the only one who actually knows how to cook.”

“Excuse you, my momma taught me how ta’ cook just fine! She said, ‘Zinda Geraldine Blake, you’ll never find a decent husband if you can’t cook a proper meal—” Zinda sees her company’s disbelieving looks and reconsiders her statement. “’Cept now I know I’m a lesbian and I couldn’t bake an apple pie if my life depended on it.”

Kyle rolls his eyes and goes back to flipping pancakes.

Once everyone has stacked numerous pancakes on their plates, they each sit around the kitchen island, enjoying their breakfast. After a beat of silence, Dinah decides it's time for some pleasant conversation.

“Zinda, did you know that years ago, Hal used to say that he had a threeway with you and Helena?”

Zinda chokes. Dinah’s grin is pure evil.

“He said _what!?_ ” Zinda narrows her eyes. “ _Ooh_ , next time I see that drugstore cowboy, I’m gonna beat his ass in a parking lot.”

“I’ll sell tickets,” Kyle offers.

They all bust up laughing, nearly to the point of tears. Wiping her eyes, Dinah turns her attention to Kyle.

“Kyle, I’ve been wondering, how did you and Guy end up married?” She asks. The expression she wears is akin to mischief, but she’s also genuinely curious.

“Yeah, I always did wonder why I was never invited,” Zinda chimes in.

Kyle snorts, suddenly intensely involved in his coffee. Guy props both elbows on the table and leans in. “I asked him while we were fightin’ this hoard of Orange Lanterns—That weird fucker Larfleeze was fuckin’ shit up again— and things weren’t lookin’ so great, so I—”

“He yelled, ‘Marry me, Rayner!’ in the _heat of battle_ ,” Kyle groans.

“Yeah, but _you_ were the one who said yes,” Guy teases, elbowing him playfully. “John officiated. Well, sort of. Johnny wasn’t too thrilled, but he did it anyways.”

“That’s because we were about to _die_ ,” Kyle snarked.

“That is… awfully romantic,” Dinah says, trying her hardest not to laugh.

“So, ya’ll never had a real wedding?” asks Zinda.

Guy shrugs. “Tora has been tryin’ to convince me to let her plan a ‘ _proper wedding_ ’ for years, but who knows. We’re already married, why go through all the stress?”

Dinah nods thoughtfully. “Well, as someone who has been the bride _more_ than once, I can tell you, weddings are a _nightmare_.”

“Amen to that,” Guy replies, raising his coffee cup in agreement.

Zinda looks over to Kyle, interested in what he has to say on the matter, but Kyle is silent. Guy is seemingly against them having a redo wedding, but is he?

Kyle clears his throat awkwardly and begins clearing everyone’s dishes, rather than find a subject to change to. “Dinah, you done with your plate? I’ll wash it.”

Dinah waves him off and takes the stack of plates from his arms. “You made breakfast, man. There’s no _way_ I’m letting you do the dishes too. Gardner can do them.”

Guy doesn’t even protest. He’s been punched enough times by the Black Canary to know that when Dinah Lance tells you to do something, you do it. Besides, having a plethora of constructs available to do the work for him makes doing dishes a snap.

While Guy turns to the dishes, Dinah takes Zinda by the hand, leading her away from the boys. “By the looks of your _very_ minimal luggage, I’m gonna guess you need to borrow some of my clothes,” she says with a knowing smile.

“No, it’s really okay—” Zinda begins, but Dinah is already rifling through her closet. She sighs. “Yes please, that’d be _divine_.”

Dinah tosses her some pants, a few dresses, and one of her nicer shirts, all of which Zinda hastily tries on. They’re similar in size, but Zinda has about five inches on Dinah, making the pants a little too short to be fashionable. Dinah might not care _much_ about fashion and makeup, but Zinda still trusted her expertise more than her own. After cycling through a few outfit choices, Dinah hands her a lavender t-shirt dress to try on. Its loose, comfortable, soft, and looks better on her than any of the other clothes Dinah told her to try on.

She turns back to face Dinah, striking an exaggerated pose. “Well? How’s it lookin’ doll?”

Dinah looks her up and down, giving a thoughtful nod. “Yeah, yeah that’s a look. But—” she pauses, shuffling through her closet yet again and returning with one of her many leather jackets. “Try this.”

Zinda obliges. Dinah is right, of course—the leather jacket really does complete the look. As she examines herself in the standing mirror, Dinah comes up from behind her to rest her chin on her shoulder.

“You look _hot_ , Blake. As always.” Dinah says, voice soft and loving against her ear.

Zinda snorts. “How’s Ollie?” She’s truly missed this—their banter, their flirting, how _well_ they match each other.

Dinah laughs that loud, boisterous laugh she’s known for. “Oh, he’s _great_. Funny, can hold his own in a fight, and abs to _die_ for. But Babs might have him beat on that one—don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’m… glad you’re happy,” replies Zinda, and she finds that she means it. Seeing Dinah in love again is all she could ask for.

“Are _you_ happy?” Dinah asks, catching Zinda off guard. “Are the Corps treating you okay? You find a nice alien girl to settle down with?”

“I think I _am_ happy,” Zinda answers, surprising herself with how quickly she responds. “It was rough at first, but Guy an’ Kyle, they’ve helped me a lot. Honestly, I had no idea Guy was a GL again, but when I saw him again… it was like it hadn’t been fifteen somethin’ years, y’know? They gave me a place to stay, helped me learn the new job, everything. Just like when I came here from the war. But no new lady friend though, sorry to disappoint.”

“It’s a real relief, knowing that all this time you were out in space, living the dream, instead of kidnapped, captured, or—never mind,” Dinah says, dismissing the train of thought with a wave of her hand before the topic gets too dark. “I’ve still got work to do, starting with your makeup.”

Dinah sits her down in the chair at her vanity and gets to work, pinning Zinda’s hair to the side so she can start in on her face.

“The Birds have been blowing up my phone since last night,” she says as she lightly dusts Zinda’s eyelids with gold. “You _are_ going to go see them, right?”

“Isn’t that why we’re dressin’ me up?”

“Good girl!” Dinah laughs. She pulls out her phone, types a message or two, and hits send. “There. Time and place are set. You’re welcome!”

When Dinah finishes, Zinda moves to stand back up, but is pushed back into her seat.

“I’ve got something for you,” Dinah says. “I know I shouldn’t have waited but… I guess I was waiting for the right time. And making sure you were, y’know, real.”

She reaches behind her neck, unclasping a golden chain. As Dinah loops it around her, she can’t help but gasp. Her _locket_ . She’d left it behind the night the ring came for her. Zinda had all but resigned herself to never finding it again, her only photo if her mother lost. Dinah had kept it _safe_ for her.

Zinda smiles, a tear trailing down to her lips. She clicks open the locket to see her mother, safe, sound, and beautiful. “I… thank you, Dinah. I thought I’d lost her forever.”

Dinah only grins, dabbing gently at her tears. “Now, don’t go ruining that make up on me, I put good hard work into that face!”

She is uncharacteristically silent for a moment, but then she continues. “I know how much she means to you. Keeping your locket safe was the least I could do.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Dinah Laurel Lance” Zinda replies quietly.              

+++

Dinah, Zinda, Guy, and Kyle, arrive at Babs’ café of choice at around noon. It’s the same place she had arranged to meet Zinda six months earlier when this all began. When the four of them step inside, they are immediately flagged down by a man and a woman, both flashing their large green rings.

“Kyle! Guy!” the woman exclaims, waving at them enthusiastically.

They go to join them at the large booth they’d reserved. Kyle slides in beside the woman, already hugging her hello. Guy offers a casual fist bump to the other lantern.

“So, ya’ll must be Simon an’ Jess?” Zinda says. It’s not really a question so much as a confirmation, to which they both nod.

“Guess we can’t call you two the newbies now,” Guy laughs, clapping Simon on the back.

Not long after they ordered, a familiar redhead makes her way through the door, glancing around for her friends. Zinda spots her first and races over, eager to be the first to greet her. She almost knocks Babs over with the force of her embrace, eyes watering. The door chimes again as Helena and Charlie follow, each met by an equally strong hug from Zinda. Charlie accepts the hug happily and heads towards the others, but Helena stiffens at the contact.

“I missed you,” Zinda says quietly. She’s not sure what _else_ to say.

“That’s it?” Helena’s posture is rigid, defensive.

“ _Hel_ ,” Babs warns, taking the woman’s hand. Helena’s expression softens.

Zinda nods towards the outside and Helena follows, leaving Charlie and Babs to meet the others at their table.

“I’m sorry,” Zinda says. She wants to _badly_ to take Helena’s hand, to make her hurt disappear. “I didn’t mean ta’ hurt you by goin’ AWOL. Thought you’d barely even notice me being gone.”

Helena snorts haughtily. “You were pretty damn wrong.”

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Zinda repeats.

“You think that makes it better?! You think I’m the only one that deserves an apology? You _abandoned_ us. How do you think that made _Charlie_ feel? Dinah? _Babs_? And me, I thought you were—”

“You thought I was dead.”

Helena nods, flicking away hot, angry tears.

“Zinda, in all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never been such a selfish bitch.”

The harsh words make Zinda _flinch_ . She _has_ been selfish. She left behind the best friends she’d ever known for a glowing rock from space, leaving them to mourn her for half a year before returning. She deserves this anger. She could have found a way to get a message back home if she’d really tried, but she’s been so wrapped up in her new life, she hadn’t thought. She hadn’t _thought_.

"She thought ya’ll wouldn’t notice her gone,” Guy interjects loudly. How long had he been standing there, leaning against the door frame like it was the most causal think in the world? “Maybe that was an over sight on her part, but you’ve got _no right_ to call her that, girlie."

Zinda looks down, not brave enough to see the look on Helena’s face as Guy continues.

“You’re givin’ her shit for leavin’ when it took ya’ll _how_ long to notice she was gone? Nuh-uh. And do you even know how hard it is to send a message to Earth when you’re a thousand sectors away?

Zinda holds up a hand, motioning for Guy to stop.

“When the ring came to me that night, the last thing I was thinkin’ about was consequences. An’ I’m not askin’ you to forgive me today or tomorrow—I messed up and I couldn’t be sorrier—but you have to know, I didn’t get nearly as much choice as you think I did.”

“If she’d’a said no, the ring probably would have abducted her to Corps Headquarters anyways,” inputs Guy, albeit unnecessarily.

“Oh,” is all Helena can say. “I… I guess I’m sorry too then.”

“We’re _all_ sorry,” Zinda sighs. “Now can we get some grub or what?”

Helena nods and walks back inside the café. As soon as she’s out of an earshot, Zinda whispers a quick “ _thank you_ ” to Guy.

He shrugs, as if it was much less of a big deal than it is. “You were takin’ too long. Figured I’d check to see if you got abducted or something. This _is_ Gotham.”

“I actually didn’t need your help, though,” she affirms. “Though it _was_ nice. You’re kinda one of the few men who’s ever stuck up for me like that.”

“That’s pretty sad, Zee,” Guy chuckles.

“I’m _well aware_.”

When they return to their table, it’s been extended by about four chairs and their food has arrived. Zinda thanks their server as he walks away, then joins the others at their table. She sits next to Charlie and Dinah, who is talking animatedly with Jessica and Simon.

“You two know Dinah? Are ya’ll in the League together or something?” Zinda asks. “I can never keep track of who’s in the spandex club these days.”

Simon nod, swallowing a mouth full of pancakes. “Yeah, J-Bird and I have been in the JL for what, a year?”

“Little longer than that, but yeah,” Jessica affirms.

“Hold on a sec,” Zinda says, pointing at Simon with her fork. “You call her J-bird—” she turns to Dinah. “And ya’ll haven’t recruited her to the Birds of Prey? For _shame_.”

Barbara laughs. “We’ve never had a Green Lantern before, have we? Well, consider yourself invited next time you’re in Gotham. You two, Simon.”

Jessica beams, looking from Simon to Babs and back to Simon again. “Oh my gosh? Can we?”

“Like you need my permission to do anything,” Simon says, smiling warmly at his partner.

“ _Yeah_ , but it’s not like I would do it without you. You’re my _partner_ , dumbass,” Jess says, poking him in the cheek.

“I’m fine with it,” Simon shrugs.

Jess whoops for joy, startling several patrons of the café.

Next to Zinda, Charlie is fidgeting so hard she nearly falls out of her chair. She

“Something to say, kiddo?” Helena says.

“I uh… oh my god Guy Garnder I fucking love you—” she blurts out.

“ _Language!”_ Dinah, Helena, and Babs all scold while Zinda laughs hysterically.

“Oh _please,_ ” Charlie says, rolling her eyes. “I’m like, twenty. I’ll say fuck if I want to.”

Guy snorts. “I like you, kid. What’d you say your name was again?”

“Charlie! Charlie Gage-Radcliffe. The Birds are like, my moms, but I already had enough last names, so I didn’t take their names or anything. Oh! Did you mean my codename? Cause its Huntress now, but I’m not as active as I want to be since I’m at Gotham U right now… before that, I used to be Misfit, and before _that_ I tried being Batgirl, and—”

“Charlie. Remember to _breathe_ ,” says Dinah.

“Right, right sorry.” Charlie takes a deep breath, but then continues. “Man, it’s just so amazing to meet _four Green Lanterns_ in one day!? What’s Kilowog like? Guy, how many times have you almost died? Is Hal Jordan really a better Lantern than you? Cause all the message boards think so, but he’s kinda… eh.”

Guy looks increasingly amused as Charlie rambles on. “Kilowog is a powerhouse that you don’t wanna cross, but he’s a real sweetie. Not sure Zinda will ever find that out though, since first time she met him she tried ta’ fight him. Lost track of how many times I almost died a long time ago. And Hal is a punk ass bitch, _not_ the best Lantern. That’s Kyle’s title.”

Kyle blushes, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m really not—”

“Take the compliment, Kyle,” Zinda laughs.

“Man, when my girlfriend hears about this, she’s gonna _flip_.”

“ _Girlfriend_ , huh?” says Zinda slyly. More than anything, Zinda is glad to see Charlie so _happy_.

“Girlfriend _and_ college? Sounds like you’ve really got your life together. What’cha studying?” Guy asks, raising an eyebrow.

Charlie’s entire face lights up. “Right now, I’m trying to get my bachelors in social work! I want to help kids in the system, make sure they don’t have to go through what I went through. And my girlfriend Carrie is a theater major!”

“A social worker, huh? I’m proud of you, kid. I used to be a social worker, back before the whole space cop thing went down,” Guy muses, looking over his ring thoughtfully.

Charlies eyes sparkle as the two launch into a conversation that Zinda will never come within a mile of understanding. As the pair continue to chatter away, Zinda finds herself drifting between conversations. She swaps best and worst missions with Simon and Jess, with Dinah inputting some of their more hilarious Justice League antics. She then shifts her attention to Helena and Babs, who are discussing their latest mission as the Birds of Prey. Zinda contemplates offering her help, but doesn’t want to step on their toes. Her, Guy, and Kyle only have a few days of leave, so there’s no telling whether she would actually be _useful_ on any sort of mission besides alley crime fighting.

It feels like nearly no time has passed when Babs pushes herself away from the table, announcing that she has a meeting to get to. The rest of them nod and list their reasons why they should also get going. Jess and Simon need to fly home, Charlie has a test to study for, and Dinah, well, she’s their ride home.

A glance outside reveals the setting sun. “The day really made a beeline for it, huh,” Zinda sighs.

“Sure did. I just wish you didn’t have to leave,” Charlie pouts, throwing her arms around Zinda.

“Me too, kiddo, but the galaxy always needs some sort of savin’. Tell you what though, I’m gonna leave that Batman feller the most demanding voicemails till he gets me one of those super-duper long-range communicators for you an’ me.” Zinda presses a kiss to Charlie’s fiery hair.

“ _Space_ walkie talkies!”

“Exactly. I don’t plan on fallin’ out of touch that easily again.”

Zinda meets eyes with Helena, who is just starting to leave. She gives Charlie a quick squeeze goodbye then races to the door, catching Helena’s arm just as she steps out the door.

“I meant what I said,” Zinda says, and Helena gives her a confused look. “To Charlie. I meant what I said about not falling out of touch. I won’t make the same mistakes, Hel. Take all the time you need, but I can’t stand you bein’ mad at me.”

Helena nods, and gives her a brief kiss on the cheek. It’s a simple gesture, but it holds hope and acceptance, two things they are all in need of.

+++

Guy, Kyle, and Zinda spend the rest of their time off like any other superheroes—attempt to relax normally, but end up so bored they stop a series of bank robberies instead. The press was certainly confused by the addition of _another_ human Green Lantern, especially one who was also a known Bird of Prey. Zinda was just glad they hadn’t mistaken her for Hal.

The time to leave for Mogo brings tearful goodbyes in Dinah’s apartment, as well as a few extra bags. Babs had dug Zinda’s things out of storage for her, and they had spent hours sorting through what Zinda wanted to keep and what she wanted to leave behind. She hadn't realized just how bad she was at getting rid of things until then, faced with piles of her own possessions. She decided not to take much with her—only her Blackhawk uniform, a few bags of clothes, and all her photo albums. It was wonderful to have her own clothes back, considering her wardrobe on Mogo consisted of Warriors shirts and borrowed sweatpants. Dinah had insisted that Zinda take the clothes she wasn’t wearing as well and Zinda didn’t protest because Dinah’s taste far surpassed her own. It was a bit troublesome to lug them through the flight home, but they managed.

 _Home_. Strange to think how six months could make an alien planet become home. As they glide across the stars, Zinda finds herself longing for her space in the apartment that not only belonged to Guy and Kyle, but now to her as well.

They touch down in the courtyard, the same place where Zinda landed after journeying to Mogo for the first time.

“Well gang, we made it,” She breathes. Space travel is exhausting, and all Zinda can think about right now is a nap.

Guy hums in agreement. Then, his eyes settle on a far-away figure with familiar orange hair standing with Kilowog across the courtyard.

“Is that—” Kyle starts.

“Oh _no_ ,” Guy groans as the woman marches towards them intently.

As the woman’s features draw nearer, there’s no doubt at all who she might be. Red hair, short stature, round build, and a determined stride—the woman _has_ to be a Gardner.

“Guy _Joseph_ Gardner, you better tell me what the hell is going on!” she insists, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“ _Gloria?!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof, that was a doozy.  
> this authors note is gonna be a long one, get ready.  
> 1\. the zinda dictionary:  
> drugstore cowboy: a guy who tries to pick up girls outside of a corner store  
> 2\. the threesome thing comes from [this horrible panel](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/3TWRTafuLwIKjouAKbClQTM2ibOIewqxzHcQUNNB-EMgt-JCqa_bcOQY2oKVblOx3XfUQ6J1EwTJ=s0) from cry for justice. its awful and i bitch about it regularly.  
> 3\. I feel like i have to apologize for helena. she was definitley a little too harsh in this chapter and writing her saying all that was tough. I dont think i did a very good job showcasing her side of things, and i'm thinking about doing a side story about it. she's still working through a lot of assorted anger. i think in part she blames zinda for the actions that her anger lead her to in the flashback chapter, even though it wasn't really zinda's fault. she still needs more time (and therapy) and she's going to get it.  
> 4\. charlie is here!!!! i know wombat is exited about that :D she's in college at Gotham U, is about 20, and her girlfriend is [carrie kelley.](https://static.tumblr.com/8e0bf8bd2dfb1798a460ab018d760a5a/7xsogph/kpMml4kto/tumblr_static_tumblr_ml243e5gu41qgvtzjo1_500.png) she was robin in the dark knight returns, and also catgirl, but her costume for that was so awful. her and charlie 100% do go caping as a date. i've been so exited for her to meet guy and kyle :D  
> about her being huntress! she actually was huntress in titans of tomorrow, though it was an alternate universe. so her costume is the same as in that universe and looks like [this.](https://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/1/19530/375095-5703-misfit.jpg)  
> 5\. and finally, GLORIA GARDNER ARRIVES!!!! i've been waiting for her to appear for MONTHS :D  
> with the nu52 reboot, they gave guy two siblings, [Gerard and Gloria.](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/marvel_dc/images/3/3c/Gloria_Gardner_Prime_Earth_001.png/revision/latest?cb=20150327203625) It’s okay if you don’t know much about them, DC doesn’t either. also if you’re wondering, Hannah mcialwain is my Gloria fancast.  
> thanks for reading!!!


	7. Enter Gloria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a new partner comes new challenges—and to make things worse, she's Guy's hot older sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay babes, i think you can consider this the beginning of act 2. i now have a plot planned out! i have an ENDING!!! i never thought i would make it this far, thank you so much to everyone who's supported me, whether it be from the beginning or in the past couple of weeks. i couldn't to this without you.  
> i think this is the fastest i've cranked out a chapter since i wrote chapter 1 at 3am oh so many months ago. I had this one done maybe two days after posting the last one? I've just been taking my time with getting it edited, hope y'all enjoy it <3  
> ALSO I have updated the tags yeet

“Guy _Joseph_ Gardner, you better tell me what the hell is going on!”

“ _Gloria?!”_

They’ve begun to drawn a crowd. John, Hal, and Salaak have arrived and are engaged in discussion with Kilowog about what is currently transpiring. Green Lanterns settle in the courtyard, each eager to catch a glimpse at the newest member of the Corps. They’re whispering now—likely expressing their distaste for the addition of yet another human, and a _Gardner_ at that.

Kyle and Zinda exchange uncomfortable glances as the woman—Gloria—continues to drill into Guy.

“Why the hell did you bring me here!? I have a _son_ to take care of, a son who’s probably crying wondering why his mama hasn’t picked him up from day care!” Her voice is rising with moment, building into a shout.

“Woah, G, you think _I_ did this?” Guy replies, holding up his hands in defense. “The _ring_ chose you, not me! Just ask—ask John. John, come over here and tell my stubborn-ass big sister that I didn’t do this shit!”

“Oh, you think _I_ _’m_ the stubborn one? I oughta’—” Gloria begins, rolling up her sleeves, ready for a fight. Tension coils in Guy’s body as he waits for her first move.

Sensing imminent disaster, Kyle inserts himself between the two. “C’mon Gloria, we can talk about this without punching someone out. We’re family, yeah?”

Guy snorts. “In our family, that’s what talking _is_.”

And then Gloria has Guy in a headlock. She’s surprisingly fast and clearly unpredictable—Zinda had been _sure_ she was going to back down. Guy wrestles against her, trying to regain the advantage and failing. Zinda shoots a look at Kyle, then John and Hal (who can’t seem to get enough of this). Should she do something? John makes eye contact and shakes his head slightly; _leave it alone_ _—Guy_ _’s got this_ , his expression tells her.

The crowd waits on bated breath, eager to see which Gardner will go down first. Guy’s face is starting to turn red and just before Zinda decides to intervene, he summons a pair of construct pliers to pry Gloria off of him.

Gloria concedes, crossing her arms. “Cheater,” she huffs.

“Not cheating. You can do the same thing, you just—” _wheeze_ “don’t know how.”

“And you think I want to learn. To join your goddamn galactic crusade. I already _have_ a job as a cop!”

“The ring chose you for a _reason_ , Gloria.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t choose _it_.”

“Are you two done?” John asks, approaching and extending a hand to Gloria in greeting. “John Stewart, Corps leader. I’m sure you have a lot of questions. If you come with me, I can help answer them.”

“If you think I’m stayin’ here you’ve got another thing comin’ to ya. I need to get back to Earth, my kid is waiting for me.”

“Gloria…” Guy starts, unsure how to tell her. “You’re a few _days_ away from home, even travelin’ at top speed. Gerard is his emergency contact, right? He’s sure to have picked him up by now.”

Gloria lets out a ragged sigh, bracing the back of her hand against her forehead. All the fight has left her. “You mean… _god_ , what’s Gerard gonna think? He doesn’t know Danton’s favorite toys, what story he needs to fall asleep, I…”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Guy assures, rubbing her shoulder. “We’ll get a message to them, let them know you’re alright.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay.” Gloria nods like she’s trying hard to make herself believe Guy but can’t quite seem to. She turns to John now, her expression shifting from emotional turmoil to all business in seconds. “I am so sorry for causing a scene, Sir, that was incredibly unprofessional of me.”

John smiles knowingly. “There’s no need for the ‘Sir’ here. Trust me, between Guy and Hal, I’ve seen much worse behavior. Now, are you ready for that tour?”

Gloria smiles and lets John lead her away, but not before looking back at Guy to glare and mouth “ _This isn_ _’t over._ _”_ Guy looks unimpressed.

With Gloria gone and the commotion over, their audience clears out as well. Soon, it’s the three of them and their luggage.

Zinda tries to keep her mouth shut, to not say something stupid, but— “Guy! You didn’t tell me your sister was _that_ hot!”

+++

It’s a relief to finally be home again. Home, back in Guy and Kyle’s apartment. _Their_ apartment now. Zinda sighs loudly, flopping on the couch. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as it had been the first few months, but she wouldn’t complain about what Guy and Kyle had given her. If she’d wanted to, she could have found her own apartment. Zinda has been putting it off—she never was very good at living alone.

“Couch still giving you trouble?” Kyle asks, leaning against the back of the furniture with a playful grin across his face.

Zinda scoffs dramatically. “What? _No_! It’s like sleepin’ on sunshine.”

“Now _that_ just sounds uncomfortable,” Kyle laughs. “C’mere, I’ve got something to show you.”

“I really am fine on the couch, you know,” Zinda insists as she follows Kyle to the closed door of his studio.

Kyle only raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Just take a look inside, Blake.”

And she does.

The bedroom had been sparsely decorated, only featuring a bed, a few bookshelves, and a brightly colored potted plant clearly not earthen in origin. At the bedside table is small postcard sized painting. She picks it up and looks at it closer, trying not to cry when she realizes what Kyle had done for her but it was impossible not to. Kyle has given her the Blackhawks. Janos, Hans, Andre, and all the rest, were painted smiling at her side like it was yesterday.

“How did you—”

“A _lot_ of research. Photos of the original Blackhawks are hard to find. I figured you deserved something to remember them by, even if it might not be _exactly_ the same thing.”

Zinda sets down the painting and flings her arms around him. Her tears sink into his soft t-shirt, all shame abandoned. She hadn’t known Kyle before coming to Mogo, but the fact that he would do this for her spoke _volumes_.

“What about your art studio?” She asks, words muffled against his shoulder.

“It’s really not a problem, I can just use the living room or rent out another space to paint in. I want you to feel at home and six months on that couch is _far_ too many. I know it’s not much, but it’s yours.” He gestures to the plain white of the walls. “The walls could use a bit of color, though. I’ll paint whatever you want on them, just ask.”

“Kyle… Thank you. I don’t know how I can repay this but I—”

Kyle grips her gently by the shoulders, his kind eyes meeting hers. “No payment necessary. That is, unless you feel like cooking for once…”

Zinda laughs, wiping joyful tears from her eyes. “Trust me, you _really_ don’t want me in the kitchen.”

“Fine, you can wash the dishes for me instead. Well, I better leave you to it—you’ve got some unpacking to do,” he says, leaving with a wink. Kyle never ceases to amaze her.

She stacks the photo albums she’d brought back with her on the near-empty bookshelf and sets Kyle’s painting beside them. She doesn’t have many photos of her own from the past, save for the few she had on her person when she was thrust through the time rift. The few pictures she _does_ have of her first team had to be acquired through… less than legal means. She still owes Selina Kyle a favor for that one.

Her clothes find homes in the closet and she rearrange a few things before finally collapsing on her new bed. The room doesn’t quite feel like hers—the sheets smell unfamiliar and the walls are grey and barren, but that will change with time. As she lies there, her eyes begin to close, and she finds herself falling deeper, deeper towards rest…

…And she wakes to shouting.

“—ask me to stay with you and you don’t even bother cleaning up? This place is a hog house!”

Zinda gets up and walks to the door, easing it open just a crack to get a view of what’s going on. Gloria’s here—her tour with John must be over—and she’s in their living room, lecturing Guy on cleanliness. So what if they hadn’t dusted in a while? They weren’t _that_ messy.

“Oh, come on, it’s not _that_ bad,” Guy scoffs.

“Your dirty socks are on the _floor!”_

Maybe they were a _little_ messy.

“I told you to pick those up,” Kyle grumbles quietly.

“Aw, c’mon Gloria, you sound like Ma.”

Gloria huffs. “I wish. You actually _listen_ to what Ma tells you.”

“You know you don’t have to stay here, right? I offered cause you’re my sister but I aint gonna make you stay. Especially if you’re gonna be like this,” Guy tells her.

“Oh, don’t worry, as soon as I figure out the best way to detangle myself from this whole Green Lantern mess, I’m gone. ‘Sides, I didn’t just come here for you.” Gloria jerks her thumb towards Zinda’s half-open door. “I came for her. Corps leader says she’s my new partner.”

Zinda’s eyes widen. John had finally given her a partner? A partner who wasn’t Hal Jordan and who might not leave her high and dry in the middle of a mission. If she could convince her to _stay_ , that is.

Gloria has clearly noticed Zinda’s presence, so there so there’s no point in hiding behind her door. Zinda walks out to greet her new partner properly, giving her a firm handshake.

“Zinda Blake. Maybe ya know me by the name of Lady Blackhawk, I was in the Birds o’ Prey back in Gotham.”

Gloria gives her a blank look. “Who?”

“It’s—never mind. Listen, do you wanna get out of here?” Zinda asks. Then she realizes how much that sounded like a proposition and attempts to backtrack. “I mean, get a drink, or—no. What you need is a good fist fight.”

“Oh, _do_ I now,” Gloria says, raising an eyebrow. “Well then, lead the way, Lady Blackhawk.”

After the pair leaves, Guy and Kyle exchange nervous looks.

“Do those two together terrify you? Cause they terrify me,” Guy confesses.

Kyle can only nod.

+++

The mats were empty when Gloria and Zinda enter the sparring hall. It’s late now, and most of the Corps have already retired to their quarters. But not them.

Zinda slides off her ring, feeling the uniform melt away and her civilian clothes return. Gloria observes her and follows suit. They tie their hair up in ponytails then remove their shoes and socks, placing them at the edge of the mat before stepping on.

“Ready?” Zinda asks, settling into her stance.

Gloria doesn’t reply—she takes the first swing instead.

With Guy, it was always an even match. They’d both picked up their skills on the streets, so his technique is just a variation of Zinda’s own.

Guy fights like a wildfire— he’s all fists and dirty tricks. But Gloria is different in every possible way.  
With Gloria, every move is calculated. She sees Zinda’s punch coming before she even thinks to _make_ it. Zinda never had a chance. Gloria steps out of the way and grabs Zinda’s arm, tugging hard and sending her sprawling onto her stomach. She smirks like she’s never had an easier fight.

Zinda groans, pushing herself off the mat. The friction burn on her cheek stings like hell.

Zinda, she knows she has flaws in combat. She thinks too little and punches too much. She lets the rush take over all too often, throwing strategy out the window to rely solely on instinct. Gloria is an observer, spotting each of those flaws and using them to her advantage.

She moves like _water_ through Zinda’s flurry of kicks and punches. Not a single hit grazes her. It’s wearing Zinda down, making her sloppy. She’s as desperate to win as Gloria, and for similar reasons. Gloria wants to prove she doesn’t need Zinda; It’s clear by the fierceness of her bright blue eyes. She wants to show the Corps that she doesn’t need them or the partner they’ve given her. Zinda only wants to prove that she’s worthy.

But how can she prove herself to a woman who’s beating her so badly? She composes herself, still breathing hard as she settles into the fighting stance Dinah taught her all those years ago. Though she primarily relies on her honed skills from the streets, she often blends it with the tricks she learned during her time with the Birds. A quick change in style is sure to catch her partner off her guard.

“That all you got, baby doll?” She beckons Gloria to come at her.

“You’ve got _no_ idea,” Gloria replies.

She charges Zinda, who sidesteps just as Gloria did to her. A well-timed counterpunch to the kidney elicits a grunt from her partner. Zinda tried not to look too satisfied. She fires Helena’s signature round kick at Gloria’s head before she can recover, but Gloria somehow catches it. Zinda tries desperately to keep her balance but she knows she’ll be reunited with the floor soon. Seconds later Gloria gives her leg a twist that has her crashing to the ground. The impact leaves her _gasping_ for breath.

She meets Zinda on the floor, pinning with a knee to the chest and a forearm to the throat.

“Yield,” she says, not the least bit tired.

She’s so _close_ now. Every breath she takes ghosts over Zinda’s skin.

“ _Never_ ,” Zinda laughs, but her laughter comes out as more of a wheeze.

She feels like a fighter from one of those bad action movies Guy’s always raving about when she says shit like that, but the look Gloria gives her is worth it. Zinda has always thought her refusal to back down in the face of defeat was one of her more admirable traits, but Gloria doesn’t hesitate to tell her how stupid that is.

She can see it now, the way her stubbornness gets under Gloria’s skin. So much can be learned from the way a person fights—Barbara taught her that. Gloria is the type of person who needs to win, but Zinda hasn’t been making it easy for her. They grapple for what quickly shifts to hours before finally, they lay on their backs, too worn out to move.

“I won,” Zinda declares, raising a weary fist.

Gloria barks a hysterical laugh, giving Zinda a light shove. “As if! I had you pinned six different times. At the _least_!”

“Please, it was _five_ times.”

The two women bust up laughing. This is what a partner should be—messy hair, shared bruises, and laughter. Zinda wants to keep that more than anything.

“I know what it’s like, you know,” Zinda says, turning on her side to face Gloria. “To feel stuck between your old life and this whole lantern thing. Letting go of the past is rough, but it’s—"

The moment the words leave Zinda’s mouth, something goes wrong. A dark expression falls over Gloria. “You don’t know shit, Blake,” she snaps. She shoves on her shoes hurriedly and slips on her rip, then storms out of the room.

Oh god. What did she do? What did she say? Zinda runs a sweaty palm through her tangled hair. All she wanted was a reliable partnership—what if she’s ruined it before it could really start? It takes a real goddamn fool to ruin something that quick.

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohhhh my god im so gay.  
> i've had that gay ass sparring scene written since... november? i've just been _waiting_ for gloria to arrive so i could share it. i like to imagine that [anarchy by neon hitch](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gg-NHAPX7Z0) was playing during the scene—that song goes HARD.  
>  also i hope y'all liked the dumb gardner sibling banter... full disclosure i am an only child but it has been verified by siblings to be realistic enough LMAO thank u Cas. some of their household dynamic is also based off my own experinces as a family of two Tauruses and a Virgo... is it still projecting if you make your fave the same sign as you even if she has taurus traits  
> there will be more on Gloria's son in future chapters, but i suggest reading red lanters #39-40 for Danton Dexter Dibble the Third's full backstory. you get to see Guy get beat up by a baby, it's fantastic.  
> let me know what you think, and i'll see you all next chapter!


	8. A Lesson in (Mis)communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the blowout in the sparring hall, both Gloria and Zinda are forced to do some introspection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i've had this one done for a while... just wanted to make sure it was beta'd to my satisfaction before posting ahahaha  
> thank you to tom and BoosterBlue for the last minute beta!! and wombat, i'll always love and appreciate you <3  
> enjoy!

With both Gloria and Zinda gone, Guy and Kyle occupy a quiet house. Guy is undoubtedly drained—there isn’t an endurance regime vigorous enough to prepare him for when his sister rolls into town. He tugs his ring off, sits down on the couch, and leans his head back as he groans. Kyle comes up from behind him, kissing his hair.

“Are you sure you’re okay with Gloria staying with us?” Kyle asks, rubbing Guy’s shoulders.

Guy sighs. Everything has just been turned on its head, and _just_ when things were starting to settle down. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be okay. I mean, she’s family. I care about her, so I kinda have to help her out.”

“It’d be just as easy to find her a place to stay nearby, you know,” Kyle offers.

“Gloria’s just stressed. She’s always taken change the hardest, y’know? But she’s helped me through shit so many times that I’ve lost track—I guess it’s my turn to return the favor. Though, I’m not sure how long she’ll be able to put up with _me_.”

His sister might nag him more than their mother ever did, but he loves her all the same. Not offering her a place to stay had honestly not crossed his mind. Although, if she decides to blame _him_ again for the socks that _Zinda_ left out… then they might have a problem.

“Okay,” Kyle nods. “It’ll be nice to have her around—she’s still got _plenty_ of dirt on you to share.”

“Asshole,” he chuckles, tugging at Kyle to join him on the couch.

“You love me,” Kyle teases. He maneuvers his way in to Guy’s lap, pressing warm lips to the freckle on his ear.

“I do.” Guy turns his head and meets Kyle halfway in a slow kiss, knowing they have all the time in the world.

Kyle will never tire of kissing Guy—it’s an ember that builds slowly until their kiss is a raging fire, consuming everything around them. The feel of his hair, the sweet smell of his skin, it’s like a jolt of caffeine to his system.

Kyle’s hand works its way under Guy’s worn tee shirt and the other man yelps. “Kyle! Watch the cold hands!”

“Guess you better warm me up then,” Kyle smirks and tugs Guy’s shirt over his head.

It’s in that moment that the front door slams open with a bang, Zinda barging inside without hesitation.

“Guy, I might’a fucked u—oh. Oh god.” She shields her eyes from the couple.

Guy glares at her and detangles himself from Kyle, who has turned bright red. It’s not the first time Zinda has accidentally walked in on them.

“What do you _want_?” Guy grumbles, still very shirtless.

Zinda’s hands are still over her eyes. “Pants on yet?”

“They were never _off!”_ Kyle cries out in anguish.

Guy lounges back against the couch, Kyle still in his lap, and asks “What, seducing my sister didn’t go as planned?”

“I wasn’t—no, it didn’t,” Zinda snaps. Her arms are crossed, whole body screaming _defensive_. “I was just tryna’ make nice with her, then she flips her damn wig and storms out on me!”

“Damn, what did you say?” Guy asks, suddenly invested.

“Nothing!”

Both Guy and Kyle give her a disbelieving look.

“ _Fine_. I mighta’ said that I knew what she was goin’ through, and letting go of the past makes bein’ a Lantern a lot easier. Then she told me I didn’t know shit and walked off!”

Guy snorts. “She’s right, you don’t know shit. To her ears, you basically told her to leave her son behind an’ become a space cop instead, no wonder she’s pissed.”

“Maybe you should… leave her be for a while,” Kyle suggests. “She’s upset and has a lot to process, but she’ll be back—I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Zinda sighs, leaning against the doorframe.

“Of course he’s right,” Guy says, curling a protective arm around his husband. “Now, if you could… be anywhere but here, that’d be great. Kyle an’ I’ve got some _pertinent_ business to attend do.”

“I’m sure you do,” Zinda laughs, raising her eyebrows. She blows a kiss as she leaves, not bothering to shut the door behind her. “Love you!”

Guy rolls his eyes, but he’s definitely smiling. Kyle closes the door with his ring and turns his attention back to Guy.

“Now, where were we?”

+++

When Gloria left her so-called partner behind in the sparring room, she had no destination set. Now, she finds herself deep in the forest at the edge of the Lantern Citadel, surrounded by mesmerizing and unfamiliar vegetation. It feels like the forest is calling to her, telling her she’s safe here. She came here to get lost and lost she has become. Gloria is just so _tired_ , she can’t resist the urge to sit down and rest.

She leans against the rugged purple bark of a tree, sinking slowly to the ground and pulling her knees in to her as she does her best not to cry. Her eyes are squeezed shut and the ringing in her ears grows louder and louder. _Gardner’s don’t cry. Gardner’s aren’t_ weak—her father had beaten that in to her until she understood. And yet she can’t stop her chest from heaving as fat, heavy tears roll down her cheeks.

Gloria never should have let that ring take her.

Because of that damn ring, she’s stuck on an alien planet, a billion light years away from her son, and with no conceivable way to tell him she’s okay.

Because of that damn ring, her entire world has changed overnights, the only remaining constant being her unpredictable little brother.

Because of that damn ring.

Gloria pulls the thing off and tosses it to the woods. This was a mistake anyways. She doesn’t have the power to ‘overcome great fear,’ as the ring had so boldly insisted when it showed up outside her cop car. She’d said yes by _accident_ , only hoping it would leave her alone.

All she wants is to be reading a bedtime story to her son.

Danton is perhaps the best thing that has ever happened to Gloria. Her life changed in an instant when Guy had shown up outside her work looking more than worse for wear, in his arms holding giggling, drooling, blonde baby. He told her that the child had lost both his parents to the Red Lantern attacks. She’d never wanted to have children of her own but didn’t hesitate for a minute when it came to adopting Danton.

He’s nearly three years old now and the happiest little boy in the world. What is he doing right now? Had Gerard picked him up, taken him home, and made sure he ate his vegetables? Did he wonder why Gloria had left him, just like his birth parents?

It wasn’t fair.

There’s a chittering at her feet. Gloria wipes her eyes and looks down at what looks almost like a squirrel, only with scales. In its paws is her ring.

Gloria shoots the creature a nasty look. “If I wanted that, I wouldn’t have thrown it away.”

The creature only _chirp-chirps_ in response.

“Take it and go! Take it back to wherever those damn things come from.”

It leaves the ring at her feet and then runs off.

She exhales, taking it back in her hands and rolling it in her palm. It was impressive how something so small could be so powerful. Something so tiny has ruined her life.

“I can’t do this,” she sighs to the trees.

If her father had ever heard her say that when she was a child, she’d have bruises for days in all the places teachers couldn’t see. Gardner’s aren’t weak.  Gardner’s aren’t quitters. Gardner’s aren’t whiny bitches. After all the times their father had screamed those words, it was practically the family motto.

If she dies out here, no one back home would know.

Her chest constricts like a python, wrapping around her lungs until her breath becomes quick and desperate. She knows she’s spiraling, moments away from an anxiety attack. She’d left her meds in her damn squad car.

“ _Gloria_ ,” a voice calls to her.

Her head whips up, watery eyes scanning for the source of the words. She knows who it belongs to, but he couldn’t be here. He _couldn’t—_

“Gerard?”

“I’m here, Gloria.”

“No, you’re not,” she insists. “You don’t even know I’m _gone_.”

When he steps out from the dense branches of the forest, Gloria is sure she’s hallucinating. He’s _here_ —Gerard, her oldest brother, standing tall and strong. The man who’d protected her from their father and from the world all her life. He extends his hand and pulls her up from the dirt and leaves. She’s caught off guard and stumbles into his arms. Gerard holds her tight, embracing her in just the kind of comfort she needs—it even _smells_ like him.

“How are you not in Baltimore?” Gloria asks, looking up at in disbelief.

Gerard shrugs, his expression an impasse. “I am. But Gerard is who you needed _."_

Gloria frowns. She can’t discern anything to indicate that this _isn’t_ her brother, but she knows in her heart that it isn’t him.

Gerard takes the hand that still holds her ring, slipping it on to her finger. Gloria inhales at the flood of power that flows through her as her uniform returns. He kisses her forehead. “You were meant for this, Gloria.”

“Don’t give me none of that that destiny bullcrap,” she huffs. “We make our own choices.”

“And right you are,” he smiles. “Your ring chose you, and you chose it in return. But now you have another choice to make: go home or stay here. Seek adventure like you used to when you were eight years old, pretending you were a valiant knight protecting a castle in a land far, far away from dad. Be a _hero_ , Gloria.”

“I’ve got a job. I’ve got Danton, I’ve got bills to pay, I’ve—”

Gerard smiles. “You worry too much. Always have. What is it the people here say?... _No fear_.”

As he speaks those words, her brother begins to fade from sight. The forest takes him back in to itself, leaving Gloria alone once more. She drags a hand down her face, wiping away her tears.

Maybe she was too harsh on Zinda before. A good partnership relies on communication, but Gloria has never been too great at feelings. Still, she can’t find herself to face the woman just yet. She stares at the ring on her finger and taps the face of it lightly.

“I don’t know how this works, but… I need to talk to Mister Stewart.”

The ring chirps and a hologram of John’s face appears. “ _Lantern Gardner. What do you need?”_

“I… I’m not sure really. But what I do know is that if I’m gonna do this space cop thing, you’re gonna have ‘ta give me a hell of a lot of days off to see my son.”

John nods without hesitation. “ _I understand. Swing by my office now, I get the feeling we’ve got a lot to talk about._ ”

The holo cuts out and Gloria breathes a sigh of relief. It’s going to take a lot of work to swing this, but Gardner’s have never been quitters. Gerard always told her not to let their childhood bring her down—maybe she _was_ meant for bigger things. All these Green Lanterns seem to live and breathe will. Her little brother does, her partner does, maybe she can learn too.

She’s terrified to find out, but perhaps that’s part of the thrill of it.

+++

The sun has hung itself low in the sky, and Zinda finds herself where she always does when thinking becomes unbearable—with two fists against a punching bag.

Sweat snakes slowly down her back as she hits harder, _harder_ , letting all her frustration fuel her.

She’ll never have what Guy and Kyle have.

She’ll never have what Soranik and Iolande have.

She’ll never have a partner who cares for her and always has her back. She’d been deluding herself by thinking so.

She’s still a girl with one foot in the past and the other in the future, never able to find where she belongs.

A slick coat of blood drips from her knuckles, but she keeps at it. Zinda rarely forgets to wrap her hands before using the punching bag, but she’d been too worked up to bother. Right now, the rough scrape of the canvas is what she needs.

She really likes Gloria too, which makes it all the more painful. Gloria is tough, stands up for what she believes in, and to top it all off, she looks gorgeous when she throws a right hook. Zinda knows there isn’t much she can do to convince someone who is unwilling to be convinced, but she wishes, she just _wishes_ Gloria would change her mind.

Zinda hadn’t gotten into this mess wanting to be a Green Lantern either, but it truly has grown on her. Now, she can’t imagine a more thrilling way to spend her time then ring-slinging back to back with two people she’d gladly give her life for. But she’ll never be able to make Gloria understand that. Zinda had thought she saw herself in the woman, but maybe they’re too different after all.

She needs to apologize, she knows it, but her mother always said Zinda would die before admitting she was wrong. Maybe back then, when Zinda was a hot-headed 18-year-old whose only concern was for herself, that’d been the case.

She sighs, bringing the punching bag to a stop and resting her damp face against it. What a _mess._

“Zinda?” A hesitant voice calls from behind her.

She turns, and there’s Gloria, leaning against the door.

“Oh. It’s you. What’cha need?”

“To talk. I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Gloria says.

Zinda huffs. “That’s one way ‘a sayin’ it.” She heads over to the bench where she’d set her gear and throws on a tank top, then sits and begins cleaning the blood off her throbbing hands.

“I talked to Corps Leader Stewart. He said that if I wanted to stay with the Corps, he’d make sure I could take the missions close to Earth. And he’d grant me leave ever so often to go see my kid.”

“Ain't there already a pair of Lanterns on Earth?”

Gloria nods. “I think you and I can work something out with them.”

“You an’ I? You mean…”

“I do.” Gloria extends her hand for a handshake. “This is gonna take some work but… I think you and I can be partners.”

Zinda glances at her hand with uncertainty. “I oughta apologize first. I’m always runnin’ my mouth and not thinkin’ of how the horsefeathers that comes out of it can hurt people. I know I hurt you when I said ya had ta’ leave Earth behind. Your story ain’t ever gonna be the same as mine, I know that now. I’ve just been so desperate for a partner, and suddenly the coolest cat on the block shows up an’ is slated to be my own, I’da said anythin’ to make you stay. I’m sorry.”

Gloria sighs, running a hand through her short red hair. “I guess I got something to apologize for too. I wasn’t very fair to you beforehand. Jumping to conclusions kinda runs in the family. I do wanna give this a try, though. I want you to make me trust you. I want to be a Green Lantern.” She says those lasts words with all the conviction she can muster, but her heart still thumps out an anxious beat.

Nonetheless, Zinda smiles. She takes Gloria’s hand, giving it a firm shake. “I’m happy to have you, partner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like how this chapter turned out cause it gives some insight into gloria's character for those who don't know her, and also explores her and zinda's relationship going forward. i'd suggest reading red lanterns #39-40 because that's where gloria and danton dexter dibble (the third) appear. that kid has SUCH an unfortunate name.  
> also, the zinda dictionary:  
> flip your wig - freak out, throw a fit  
> cool cat - a rad person (y'all probably know this one lmao)  
> horsefeathers - nonsense  
> anyways, let me know what you think!!


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